Ragazza Veleno
by warohl
Summary: She was used to risky jobs, to taking tasks others were afraid to-get rid of Falcone's right hand man, lure information from the young and hormonal mayor's daughter... all handled with ease. But when her newest assignment involves a certain Scarecrow, she begins to realize that she's finally met her match. Crane/OC.
1. Prologue: Dietro la Porta Cremisi

**Well, welcome one and all to my new story! For years I've been meaning to write a Batman fic, but I never could come up with anything good (and the thought of writing the villains was rather intimidating). But finally, I managed to find some inspiration!**

 **I didn't want to write an OC or a plot line that was commonly found in the Crane/OC fics that I've, so I hope that I've created a well-rounded story that everyone will enjoy.**

 **This prologue is short, I know. _But_ it's not a full chapter; my goal is to make the story long and to not rush things along too quickly (catch me if I ever am, though). I'm going to try to update once a week, probably every Sunday, so hopefully I can keep myself to that schedule.**

 **I hope this prologue is enticing enough for everyone to follow and return to!**

* * *

"Come on, hot shot, why don't you give me a little tour?" a young woman giggled and slurred flirtatiously as she hung off the arm of an inebriated businessman. The pair had wine glasses in their hands, both stumbling over their feet through the halls of one of the many Gotham skyscrapers. Some floors above, in the penthouse event hall, a charity masquerade could be hear, the air full of laughter and music and alcohol. The two had disappeared from the party a few minutes back, the young red-haired woman insisting that they spend some time alone together. And who was this man to say 'no' to such a lovely little thing like her?

All evening, Mr. Robert Waite had been eying the redhead, who boldly stuck out among the crowd-the event called for a theme of black and gold attire, yet the woman arrived in a dress akin to the colors of a labradorite. The shades of blue adorning her body in a skin tight dress caught the attention of many men and women that evening, yet she only had her eyes set on Robert Waite, much to his astonishment (after all, the only time such young and beautiful things were caught with men his age is when they were after money).

Eventually, the young woman boldly approached him as he took a moment away from his colleagues to refill his drink. She immediately opened up with flirtatious remarks and a request for a refill on her own drink.

Throughout the night, the two were at each others sides, drinking and flirting to their hearts' desires as they kept to themselves. After a good hour or so of this, the sultry woman began to drag him away, leading them to where they were now.

"What would you like to see, sweetheart?" Waite grinned wickedly as he received another giggle from the woman, causing him to tighten his grip on her waist excitedly.

With a glint in her eyes and a soft bit of her lip, she replied, "Your office?"

Waite was more than happy to oblige the request, and so they began the trek to his large and luxurious office. The redhead continued to sip at her wine, jesting that she'd steal his as well if he didn't finish it quickly. And as an extra reassurance, she jokingly brought the glass back up to his lips with a teasing grin, practically pouring the content between his lips and down his throat.

Finally, the two were entering his office, with Waite shutting the door eagerly behind them. He finished the last drops of his Merlot in a swift gulp as his companion set her glass down on a side table.

In the near dark of his office, Waite stumbled around in search of a light switch, but was stopped by a silk-clad hand on his chest and the woman's breath against his neck, taking him by surprise.

"There's no need for that…" She whispered while slowly leaning into him. Waite grinned largely as his burly hands reached down to grab a firm hold of the redhead's waist. She began to reach up, her lips inching toward his in a teasing fashion.

Then, she stopped, causing Waite to groan as his fingers dug into her skin. The woman looked up into his eyes innocently for a few long moments, almost as if in anticipation. For what, Waite wasn't sure, though it became frustrating to have to delay any longer. Just as he was about to begin questioning her, he stopped.

He began to feel dizzy. A dizziness that caused him pain and confusion. And that's when the woman's green eyes went from innocent to menacing.

Waite's body began to feel heavy as the woman stepped back, watching as the man pressed his palms to his forehead and began to stumble around. He managed to mutter out a small " _what_ " and take a final glance at the woman before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed to the floor.

The redhead smirked subtly as she kicked the man's discarded wine glass with her heel-some people were _too_ easy. Robert Waite was one of these people. She knew he would be when she was asked to take the assignment, so of course she would accept these sorts of things; it was just more easy money for her.

Quickly, the woman turned to the desk in front of a large window, making her way to the computer atop it; luckily, she wouldn't be rushed and limited on time (as she had been on a number of other assignments), but nonetheless she wasn't a fan of working slow. There were too many risks involved sometimes.

The woman was soon clicking and typing away on the computer, searching for the data files she knew would be there. If she worked quickly enough, she could have the drive handed over to her client tonight, and have the second half of her $10,000 pay in cash by tomorrow morning.

For a brief moment, she stole a cautious glance up at the security camera positioned in the far corner of the room-of course, she knew it wasn't actually monitoring her (as she had gone into the security before the masquerade and put the feed on a loop), but old habits die hard. After all her years of this work, sometimes she'd forget that she was no longer a sixteen year old learning to pick a lock.

Soon enough, the documents were found, loaded to a hard drive, and completely wiped from the computer. And the woman left the room, retrieving her wine glass with a gloved hand and slipping it into her small clutch bag. Casually and innocently, she took the elevator door to the ground floor and exited the building with a friendly smile at the doorman wishing her a good night.

* * *

 **Okay, so there's not a lot to go on so far, but isn't the mystery part of the fun? Leave some reviews, lemme know what you think so far-writers can't live without their reviews, after all!**


	2. One: Il Sentiero

**I'm super excited to see that some people started following this story, it's a very reassuring feeling!**

 **Before diving in, I just want to ask an important question, so I hope all my readers answer: How do you imagine the Scarecrow and Jonathan interact with each other? How does the Scarecrow talk to Jonathan, particularly in regards to his opinion on other people? Or do you prefer when their isn't dialogue written between the two? I've seen various interpretations in different fanfics, but I'd like to hear what my readers most like or think is most in character. Help a girl out here!**

* * *

At nearly midnight, the young woman entered her apartment building on the border of Gotham Heights and The Narrows. Luckily for her, it was still within the Gotham Heights district, but just a few measly blocks down was the most dangerous part of town, full of thieves and thugs and any other kind of imaginable criminal. However, it had never really concerned her—she knew she could handle herself, and if she ever couldn't she had a few family ties that could take care of any problem for her.

After disappearing from the skyscraper down in Old Gotham, the redhead immediately called her client for a meeting. Quickly, she had the item exchanged, and her client ensured that the rest of her pay would be delivered to her the following morning (if not, she'd most likely attempt to wreak some havoc).

Now, as she ascended the staircase in her complex, the redhead felt a strange sense come over her; something felt off and suspicious, though she couldn't say what. Over the years, she learned more and more to listen to her intuition, to observe situations better, and right now she could tell that there was something out of place. The more paranoid side of her thought something was out of place in her apartment, because just her luck these sorts of things only happened to her.

With an almost exasperated sigh (couldn't whatever the problem was at least wait till the morning?), she reached under the skirt of her dress for the knife she always kept on her. Cautiously, she finished the walk up to her fourth floor apartment, halting only to remove her keys from her small clutch. Upon opening the door, she discovered all the lights were on, which nearly worried her until she saw who was sat in one of her arm chairs.

With a roll of her eyes, the redhead tossed her knife down on a table, closing the door behind her as she crossed her arms.

"What, couldn't find a more convenient time to pay a visit?" She questioned, her voice not sounding as airy and sweet as it had earlier in the night. Now, she sounded huskier, with a hint of stereotypical Italian mobster laced in it.

Across from her sat the Chechen, Sal Maroni's top drug trafficker, smirking in amusement at the young woman, "Midnight is good time for Maroni, so is good time for you."

The woman quirked an eyebrow as she pulled the long, silk gloves off her arms, "And what is it that Maroni could need from me at this time of night?"

The Russian reached to the table beside him, lifting a glass to his lips (and the woman knew that whatever he was drinking had to belong to her) and taking a quick sip, "He wants a meeting; he has new job for you, rather urgent, too."

"Urgent, huh? And I'm assuming you're to escort me to this meeting whether or not I agree to it?" The Chechen simply nodded, as the woman also took off her mask, then reached up to remove the red wig from atop her head. Though she was never fond of disguises, every now and again she thought it was better to be safe than sorry on a job. She then removed the hair cap keeping her long brunette locks hidden all evening.

The Chechen stood, knocking back the last of his drink and preparing to head for the door. But a small hand and minatory expression halted him in his steps, "I'm not goin' out in this," the woman spoke, referring to the fitted blue dress she still worn, "Now, I'm gonna change into something else, and you're gonna make me a coffee while you wait."

The Chechen narrowed his eyes at her, "What…?"

"You'll find it in the cabinet above the fridge," the woman said unquestionably as she walked into her bedroom, grinning slightly-she knew she could get away with being a little difficult, and it was satisfying to remind others of that when they didn't necessarily have the upper hand, "And make sure to add a lot of that vanilla creamer."

The Chechen stood for a few moments, brow furrowed—since when was he to take orders from this girl? He was Maroni's right hand man, he wasn't a fucking barista.

"I don't hear it brewing!" He heard her voice call from behind the door. With an annoyed eye roll, The Chechen walked into the kitchen, muttering to himself in his native tongue.

* * *

Some thirty minutes later, the Chechen was escorting the young brunette up the back steps of a high end club in the middle of town, nodding in brief acknowledgement of the man keeping security at the back door. Most never would have guessed that the expensive place was actually owned by Salvatore Maroni; if they had any clue, the nightclub wouldn't nearly be as popular as it was.

The brunette yawned loudly, stretching her arms above her head, "Honestly, he couldn't wait til morning? It's past my bedtime, ya know."

The Chechen wouldn't admit that he was amused by the woman (he honestly did like her from their past few encounters, but he had a tough persona to uphold), choosing to maintain a straight face, "Recent circumstances made it important we meet now."

The woman quirked an eyebrow curiously, but continued to follow him, a little too interested in what kind of a job Maroni had for her.

Without her heels, expensive dresses, and makeup (which now was still smudged around her eyes, she having been to lazy to really try taking it all off before the meeting), she wasn't nearly as impressive. The heels gave her height and power (being 5 foot 3 is not very intimidating, after all), and the dresses gave her enticement and grace. All elements of the characters she played. Now, clothed in a very casual sweater and boots, she could have been mistaken for any other person on the street. That, however, was a trick she learned to be useful—never stick out unless you have to. And when you're going to meet a guy like Sal Maroni, it's best to keep as low a profile as possible. _Especially_ when he requests for your audience specifically.

The two criminals walked together in silence, the chatter and music of the roaringly busy club occupying the air where their conversation lacked. Quickly, they came to a private room just away from the primary public space; the Chechen looked around them before opening the door and leading the brunette inside ( _'And that' doesn't look suspicious at all.'_ the woman thought to herself briefly).

Upon entering the small space, the woman's eyes immediately zoned in on the gaze of Sal Maroni, who sat back casually in his seat, drink in hand. His usual patronizing gaze bore into her green eyes, giving a grin of both familiarity and confidence.

"Ah, Octavia," Maroni greeted in his signature condescending tone. He sat surrounded by two guards, his expression held a sense of superiority as he took in the appearance of the young woman, "it's been a while."

"Well, ya know, between the two of us ruining lives and killing people, we hardly can make time for each other." Octavia grinned wickedly as she took a seat across from the crime lord without an invitation; she very nearly asked for a drink for herself, which would have been her own way of saying that he, to this day, still wouldn't be able to intimidate her.

She was comfortable around Maroni, at least to some degree—the Baresi family had been involved with the Italian mob, as well as her grandparents when they first moved to the U.S. Since childhood she'd see the mobsters come around the house every now and again (of course, in those days her mother insisted no "business" talk in the house, especially when she had her young daughter glued to her side with wide-eyed curiosity), and as she got older, she was taught the tricks of the trade. Of course, one wouldn't say she was technically a part of the mob, but she was the closest she could get without making any promises she couldn't keep.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of having a Russian break into my apartment and drag me off into the mysterious night?"

Maroni chuckled lazily, "Still dramatic as ever, I see." Octavia quirked an eyebrow impatiently, and the mobster got straight to business, "We have a new job for you."

"I guessed as much." the young woman kicked her feet up onto the table sat between them, "I, however, need the specifics before I consider agreeing to anything."

With a sigh, Maroni stared at her boots for a moment before returning his look back to her eyes, "As you already know, we've been gaining quite a lot of power around Gotham recently…"

He was referring to the arrest of Falcone several months back. Once Carmine Falcone was finally taken in by the police, it gave Salvatore Maroni the opportunity to become Gotham's new number one crime boss. His rise to power was a surprise purely out of how quickly he managed to do it; it was as if Maroni was just waiting for the right time, having everything already in place to take control. And if Octavia were to be honest, she suspected Maroni would manage to hold onto his level of power greater than Falcone ever had (or maybe she was just being biased).

"And our Chechen friend here has been doing wonders with our drug trafficking." Maroni casually pointed two figures at the Russian, who in turn looked rather smug about the compliment he received, " _However_ , we're starting to notice somethin' suspicious."

"What kinda somethin;?" Octavia didn't want to sound too intrigued, in hopes that Maroni wouldn't see how eager she already was to start a new job.

"We been doin' some deals with a more shady figure—"

"Aw, someone shadier than you?" Maroni gave her a warning glance, the kind a father gives his child when they've been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Behind her, Octavia was almost certain she heard the Chechen suppress a chuckle.

"We're nearly certain there's something goin' on with this guy; we don't trust him. We think there's somethin' wrong with the products he's giving us and that maybe he's messin' with our supply as well." Maroni sat up a little straighter, keeping his eyes focused on Octavia, "We want you to find out what he's up to."

"We talkin' some stalker work or going in undercover work?" Octavia questioned.

"We wanna know exactly what he's up to; wanna know what he's doin', where he's hidin', why he's doin' whatever it is he's doin'."

"Hmm, sounds complicated." Octavia joked before pondering the request for a moment, "And what do ya plan to do when I get you the details?"

Maroni carelessly shrugged, "All depends on what you bring back to us."

In Octavia's book, that response essentially meant they had every intention of killing the man if they felt it necessary. It didn't phase her, though the moral side of her knew it should have.

"Well, you have my interest," Octavia gave a small grin, trying not to dwell on her previous thoughts, "so, who's the lucky bastard?"

Now, Maroni shared a look with the Chechen that didn't sit well with the young woman. When he looked back at her, his eyes were completely serious, "Scarecrow."

Octavia stiffened, eyes evident of her shock; she wasn't sure what she was expecting the man to say, but it most certainly wasn't _that_. How could they get involved with a guy that, only five or six months prior, threatened the whole of Gotham? Better yet, how could they expect her to get the intel they needed without her life being completely at risk?

Maroni could see the cogs turning in her head, hesitation evident in her expression, "What, job sounds too big for ya?"

"If I'm being honest, yeah," Octavia replied. "This guy isn't just some street thug or mobster, you gotta understand my concern. He won't be an easy guy to fool; hell, I have a higher chance of failure than success."

"Failure isn't an option here, Octavia." Maroni responded seriously, "This Scarecrow is good to have as an ally for the sake of intimidation, but if he's messin' with our supply, we need him outta our hair."

Octavia was flabbergasted, "You're telling me you honestly plan to potentially kill the Scarecrow?" She nearly laughed, "Somehow, I don't imagine that going according to your plan."

Maroni grinned once more, "that's where you come in, kid. Believe it or not, you're one of the best hitmen Gotham has to offer."

"Oh, I believe it." She responded cockily, smirking at the room of gangsters who all seemed to roll their eyes, "However, he's much smarter than the average criminal; he'll be a challenge."

"Look," it was obvious in Maroni's tone that he was getting tired of this back-and-forth squabble, "what would pops say about you backin' outta a job opportunity?"

Octavia rolled her eyes, "He wouldn't say shit; if anything, he'd be glad that I didn't take such a risky job, so don't bring my family into this."

Maroni, after seeing that, once again, manipulation tactics weren't going to work on the woman, sighed, "Kid, we want you on this job. I've discussed this with a few colleagues—" at that, the man stole a glance up at the Chechen, "—and you're the person we want. And imagine, you could be the person that brings down the Scarecrow; think of the kinda recognition you'd get."

Octavia would admit that a part of her was fond of the suggestion—she'd admit, she was a bit egotistical, but doesn't everyone want recognition for their work every now and again? However, being a criminal herself was a bit of a hinderance; if she was recognized for taking down the Scarecrow, she could only imagine the kind of dirt the public and police would try to dig up on her.

"Octavia," she looked back up at Maroni, "we don't got all night."

"All morning." She obnoxiously corrected before she could catch herself—now _really_ wasn't the time for her to be a smart ass, which was obvious from the expression on the mobster's face.

Her thoughts were traveling a mile a minute as she tried to decide what the hell she wanted to do. She could feel the pressure of the eyes of everyone in the room, which only made her brain work more frantically. Of course this job would be risky, but hadn't she been in enough other dicey positions to be prepared for it? And she could admit that, though initially frightened of the man five months ago (but maybe that fear was only magnified by the panic Gotham was in at the time), she was ultimately fascinated by him; he had half the city in the palm of his hand, he had so much power over so many people, even if just briefly.

"Okay," Octavia spoke before realizing the conclusion she came to, "I'll do it." Maroni grinned largely, preparing to speak, " _But_ , I need room for failure on this." The room looked confused, "Yeah, yeah, I know ya said failure wasn't an option, but honestly, in this position, I deserve a little wiggle room here. This would be a challenge for anyone."

For a few long moments, Maroni was silent in thought, eyes never leaving the young woman's face. Octavia stared right back, bullheaded in her decision.

"Fine, if you mess this up we won't kill ya."

"You planned on _killing_ me!?" Octavia's eyes widened as she stood up defensively.

Maroni held up his hands, though he didn't seem to regret the words that had just left his mouth, "Sweetheart, we're not the fucking Boys and Girls Club—we don't leave room for error."

Octavia rolled her eyes, "You think killing people solves anything, don't ya?"

The man shrugged nonchalantly, "It's usually worked in the past."

"Whatever." Octavia let out a large sigh that turned into a yawn, "look, I'm goin' home now—we can finish up this business once I'm well rested." She walked for the door without a care for the mobster's disagreement, "Send someone to my apartment tomorrow so we can work out a contract and shit; for now, I'm gettin' some sleep."

And with that, Octavia exited the room, hearing Maroni and the Chechen begin discussion of the job almost immediately. However, all she was concerned about was falling into the mess of pillows and blankets awaiting her back home.

* * *

The following day, Octavia was sat in front of her computer, researching rapidly all there was to find on Jonathan Crane. Before choosing a plan of action with any target, she found it best to get all necessary information available on them. And with a target like the Scarecrow, she knew that she'd have to spend a lot of time on her research.

Of course, there was a lot to be found on the web, most articles about his Terror Night about five months back. Though she was _more_ than aware of everything that had occurred that night, she nonetheless read through each article, looking for even the slightest trace of any new information. Digging further back, she found more articles from his time as the Director of Arkham Asylum, though many of those he was only briefly mentioned in. More still, she found a few articles and webpages about his recent breakout from Arkham, which had occurred about a month back.

Being the kind of spy she was, Octavia eventually knew she'd have to dig deeper than the public internet database had to offer, so she turned to her more private databases (she had quite a knack for accessing the Gotham Police Department's database, much to their utter frustration).

Some time in the middle of the afternoon, The Chechen and another of Maroni's men let themselves into her apartment, irritating Octavia something great (she was lucky that she had actually clothed herself this morning, or else she would have killed them for walking in on her in her under garments). They presented her with a first draft of a contract, as well as a few notes Maroni had written out for her. She read through everything carefully, filling in subtle changes here and there before handing it to the Chechen to look over.

"You should probably let Maroni know about a few of those changes," she spoke dismissively as she turned back to her computer screen, continuing to create her profile on the Scarecrow.

Behind her, she heard the Chechen grumbled as he pulled a cell phone from his pocket to contact his boss, and another few minutes later the Russian returned the papers to her hands, insisting that everything was set and that she had to sign it now. There was obvious impatience in his tone as Octavia grabbed the pen she had been holding between her lips. She quickly signed the form, but before returning it to the foreigner, she went to her printer to create a copy of it. Finally, everything was complete, and the two men prepared to leave.

"Wait," Octavia called out as they stopped at her front door, "When will you be meeting with the Scarecrow again?"

For a moment, the Chechen stared at her with a raised brow, "Next week; why?"

"It's my easiest way of tracking him," she responded as if it was completely obvious, "This man is a criminal in hiding, it's not like I can just go out to any old, scummy bar and ask for his whereabouts." The woman stood, walking to another desk and opening up a drawer before rifling through its multitude of contents; for someone who was so efficient at their job, one would think said person would be a little more organized, "I'm going with you that night."

She lifted up a small, rectangular device to the men's gazes, "What is that?"

"A GPS tracker," Octavia rolled her eyes, "When you meet, I'm gonna get this tracker on his vehicle to follow him to wherever the hell he keeps all the drugs." She set the item down among her piles of paper, "It's _incredibly_ simple, I'm almost surprised none of you had thought of it sooner."

The Chechen simply glowered, receiving a mocking grin from the young woman.

"Now, I'll need all the info about your meeting time and place so that I can plan for this." Octavia returned to her couch, picking up a notebook and looking at the Russian man expectantly, and quickly he obliged and gave her all the details he could.

As soon as the men had left, Octavia returned to her research, eyes falling on an image of Jonathan Crane being taken into custody by the police. She studied his expression for a few moments—he was incredibly calm and collected, an air of coolness in his eyes. Perhaps in another life—if she hadn't been assigned to ruin him, and if he wasn't a crazy criminal—she imagined he'd be the kind of guy she'd try to hook up with at some high class party (She'd be the first to admit that she was quite a fan of the simpler things in life, such as sex. Yeah, sure, she liked to sleep around, but at the end of the day who cared?).

But, no, she had a job to do, and she'd be damned if she didn't put every effort possible into this.

* * *

 **To give an idea of my timeline, I imagine the beginning of this story is set 2-3 months prior to the Dark Knight. I'll most likely be delving into some TDK territory, though at this point I'm not sure how quite yet. Another point of clarification that I realized while rewatching TDK: I'm not entirely certain on whether or not the Chechen works freely from Maroni. For the sake of the story, I've assumed that they work closely together on anything regarding drugs, since Maroni's the big man in town in regards to organized crime.**

 **Aaand we finally know something about the OC! How does everyone like Octavia so far? Leave reviews, let me know what you think of the story, and keep an eye out for an update in a week!**


	3. Two: L'inizio Della Fine

**Hey guys, back with a new update! I hope people are enjoying the story so far, but I can't really tell—I need reviews! I like to see readers' feedback, it keeps me motivated to write. And it's very difficult to maintain an excitement to share if I'm not hearing back about my work. I know the first couple chapters may not be terribly exciting, but try to let me know what you think!**

* * *

Octavia very rarely saw her parents. Ironic, since they _did_ live in the same city, but they were all busy people, Octavia in particular. Her father, Santino, still worked closely with Maroni, helping the man to maintain his power within Gotham; Anita, her mother, though no longer working, still remained quite faithful to the Italian mob, and she was the incredibly sociable type that, at any opportunity, would find time to visit with the other mob families.

Her parents were proud of Octavia, she knew. Sure, they constantly worried for her and often tried to make her rethink her "career" choice, but ultimately they were proud that she'd become the adult she was. It's not that they were proud that she was a criminal (that was a pretty standard thing within their family, after all, so it was no surprise she wasn't working a typical 9-to-5); they were proud that she had taken everything they taught her and managed to become more of a success than the two combined. They were proud to admit to thugs and mobsters that their daughter was "Il Serpente," as some on the mob scene had taken to calling her. She was the snake that managed to strike people where it most hurt, the snake that could be anyone and destroy anyone. Needless to say, she had gained quite the reputation in the organized crime of the city.

Outside of the mobs and their associates, few knew much (if anything) about Octavia. She knew that it was safer for herself and her family to gain as little public attention as possible. Especially once that Batman started showing up. Since then, she only got better at keeping her work and identity secretive. After all, she was much happier roaming the streets freely than she would have been locked up in a Blackgate cell.

One afternoon, after Octavia had met with a man that supposedly had some information on Crane (ultimately, the man was useless to her investigation), she received a call from her father, asking her to meet with the family for lunch. Since it had been so long, she was eager to say yes, though she insisted it be kept short so she could continue her work.

She found herself meeting them at a familiar restaurant, one frequented by the mob—old habits died hard, and her parents were a little too accustomed to sticking to mob territory. With a slight sigh at their predictability, Octavia entered.

She spotted her parents seated in their usual booth, a few other familiar associates seated at the tables around them. Upon her arrival she was greeted warmly by her family before taking a seat. Immediately, her father began questioning her on her newest job.

"I'm working for Maroni again," she replied simply before the trio began to order their meals.

"Maroni's a good man," Octavia nearly scoffed at her father's reply. The two men were childhood friends, so it was no question that their perception of each other was a little skewed, "I'm sure he'll be paying you well."

"You have _no_ idea." She responded, recalling the sum he promised to pay _if_ she completed the task, "It's only a matter of whether or not I can actually get the job done."

Her mother looked puzzled, "It's not very like you to have self doubt. If anything, you're too cocky for your own good." Anita gave a good natured wink to her daughter, who replied with a smirk.

Though she didn't particularly want to discuss her assignment, she knew that her parents would learn about it one way or another, "I imagine anyone would doubt themselves if they were about to deal with a man like the Scarecrow."

Everyone at the table around Octavia very obviously froze.

"The _Scarecrow_." Her father very nearly hissed, his accent much thicker than his daughter's, "But Maroni's been workin' with him."

"Doesn't mean he trusts the guy." Octavia responded, "He suspects Scarecrow might be tamperin' with their supply, wants me to investigate it."

"I don't like the sound of this job, Vee," Her mother said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "why didn't you just decline it?"

"Maroni didn't give me much of a choice." The young woman replied as she rolled her eyes.

"Want me to talk to him for ya?" Her father's expression was obviously protective—it didn't matter how much they believe in her skills, a job like this admittedly concerned them.

"I already signed a contract, dad," she casually began to sip her drink, as if the discussion they were having wasn't about a mad man in a mask. "Besides, I can handle myself." Octavia hoped her parents didn't pick up on her slight doubt; sure, she was cocky as hell sometimes, but even still this job was intimidating.

"If there are ever any problems," her father started, reaching for her hand across the table, "you call me first, okay? I can get you outta the job if you need."

Octavia shook her head, putting on an authoritative tone, "Dad, please, I'm not a kid anymore—I'm more than capable of handlin' myself."

The two elder Baresis could sense the finality in Octavia's tone. And though they didn't like the sound of the job, they knew their daughter was too bullheaded to back out of the job now.

For the remainder of their lunch, the family pretended they never even discussed the Scarecrow.

* * *

It had been nearly a week since Octavia's meeting with Maroni. For that week, she continued her research, though often times she just found repeated information. Any of the sources she tried to talk to also had very little to say on the Scarecrow—no one knew his current hideouts, no one knew what he'd been doing with Maroni's drug. No one knew much of anything, much to her growing frustration.

Octavia had decided that she had probably gathered all the information she was going to find for the time being. So, her top priority then became stocking up and readying any and all of her supplies. She ensured that her GPS and tracker were operational with full battery, checked her ammo supply, and saw to it that all her knives were sharpened. She also had to make sure her catsuit was in pristine condition (it had been so long since she'd used it last, that she knew it had to be nearly perfect) and purchase a gas mask (better to be safe than sorry), knowing both would be entirely necessary in any interaction with the Scarecrow.

When it had finally come time for the Chechen to meet with Crane, Octavia simply informed the Russian that she'd be nearby. Without any further explanation, she'd left the warehouse Maroni used for all his supplies, heading out early to be prepared at the car garage that the group had made the designated meeting place.

A couple days prior, Octavia had gone to the parking garage to stake it out, just to know her surroundings and be prepared for it. It was pretty standard, just a simple twenty minute walk around the whole place to get a feel for it; but it was nonetheless useful to her. There wasn't much in the ways of a formidable hiding spot for her to wait out in, but that could be resolved simply—she just needed to use the cars as her barrier, and she knew those would be in abundance no matter what time of night.

So, the night of, Octavia made her way to the garage beneath a mingle of multiple businesses, hiding the fact that she was in a catsuit by wearing a large sweat shirt, and keeping her weapons stored in a worn backpack—as it got closer to the designated meeting time, then she'd discard the unnecessary items and hide out.

She had more than enough time to prepare herself before anyone's arrival, and she took that time to double check everything she had with her—she didn't have room for error, else she had to wait another week to even try again. Once Octavia noted that everything was in top shape, she secured her equipment to her utility belt and removed the sweater. There was still time before anyone was supposed to arrive, but it was better for her to be prepared now than scrambling later.

Finally, after a wait that felt longer than it was, the watch on her wrist showed the time to be 10:30. Any second now, the two parties should be arriving.

After a few minutes of waiting, a white van drove past her hiding spot, going another level below, and she instinctively knew that that had to be the Scarecrow (no other vehicles had pulled into the parking garage for a long while, so it was only logical for her to come to this conclusion). Octavia waited a moment before moving from shadow to shadow so to follow them; she was quick, but nonetheless stealth, making sure that she remained hidden from all potentially watchful eyes.

Another few minutes passed before the familiar SUVs belonging to Maroni's men pulled up, and now Octavia was on high alert. She only had a few minutes to get the tracker onto the van, and she had to ensure the whole time that she remained unnoticed.

Once men began exiting all the vehicles did Octavia dare to move closer. She inched her way along, laying low to the ground and utilizing the shadows of all the cars still parked around them. For a moment, she stopped, eyes landing on a burlap mask and a tattered suit, and for whatever reason, Octavia froze. She couldn't explain why she took a moment to take in the Scarecrow's appearance—maybe it was sheer curiosity, or maybe it was her recollection of the Terror Night five months ago. Whatever the case, she knew she couldn't waste time, and quickly shook her attention away after catching sight of a small canister peaking out from under the man's jacket. Obviously, she knew _exactly_ what it was, but pushed the thought to the back of her mind, knowing that she had a job to finish before concerning herself with anything else.

Now, Octavia was only a few cars away, and she could hear the Chechen speak, though she wasn't paying enough attention to actually make out his words. Her eyes were darting between the Scarecrow and his four men, all of which had their backs turned to her, though they all, nonetheless, looked intimidating. Moving a little faster, she finally crouched at the front of their van, completely hidden from anyone's line of sight (in that moment, she was particularly glad that the men were meeting in such a poorly lit location).

Reaching into the pouch on her left hip, Octavia gripped the tracker. She quickly turned it on, taking a brief moment to check _one more time_ that it was synced with her GPS, before securing it to the underside of the van. She waited another moment, peaking around the corner of the vehicle to make sure she was still unnoticed before she darted back out, disappearing in the direction from which she came.

 _'Too easy.'_ She thought to herself as she waited. Though the task was something incredibly simple, Octavia still had the chance to be glad about her small successes along the road to larger ones.

Quickly, the men finished their trade, all returning to their designated vehicles. Soon, everyone had left the garage, but Octavia still chose to wait another few minutes—she didn't want the Scarecrow to know that he was being tailed, and with the tracker she had absolutely no reason to tail him.

When she felt it was safe to move again, Octavia ran for the motorcycle she parked near the exit of the garage, securing the helmet on her head before pulling out her GPS to check Scarecrow's location. It was no surprise to her to see that the van was heading in the direction of the Narrows—she predicted that the man would be hiding out there or somewhere near the Lower Gotham docks. So, she quickly started in that direction; once she was in the all too familiar neighborhood, then she'd check her GPS for their location again.

* * *

About fifteen or so minutes later, Octavia found herself in the complete and utter slum of the Narrows. Sure, the whole neighborhood was considered a slum, but a particular stretch—in the northernmost part of the neighborhood—was an exceptionally rough area for anyone to be found in.

From her hidden perch at the top of an apartment complex, Octavia watched the scene below with careful eyes—many feet away, the Scarecrow had exited his white van, looking over a notebook in his hand as his four guards carried boxes around him. He seemed incredibly nonchalant, not even sparing a small glance at the men at work; obviously, this was something they had done often. The men were walking in and out of another rundown apartment, similar to the one Octavia sat atop, though theirs (if she were to guess) was almost certainly abandoned.

It was genius of him, really, to be hiding in plain sight like this; all he needed was a cruddy apartment in the middle of the Narrows, but it was enough for him not to be found by the police or the Batman. Too often, the police force expected criminals to pick hideouts that were a little more obscure—old warehouses, abandoned restaurants, that sort of thing. They didn't think to look for a man like Crane living so domestically, especially since he had such a high price on his head.

The four men were filtering in and out of a back door, which Octavia assumed led to a stairwell that had access to a basement—it was so typical, after all, for his "secret lab" to be hidden below the street's surface. Wasn't that the trick used in all the movies?

Crane simply stood by, not even remotely concerned about being spotted in the open. Maybe he wasn't afraid or maybe he knew this routine so well. She couldn't be sure. But regardless, it made her all the more curious as he kept his gaze boring into his notes.

Quickly enough, the group had finished unloading the van, and two of the men returned to their seats in it, disappearing down the road soon after. Cautiously, Octavia shimmied down a drainpipe, keeping herself hidden by the building's shadow. While doing so, the last two of Crane's thugs disappeared into the building, leaving their boss to enter the back door soon after.

After a few long moments of waiting, Octavia quickly darted out across the street, silent as ever in her approach. She paused, leaning against the old brick wall, listening for any sign that she was noticed. After no sounds met her ears, she directed her attention to the door, staring at it in thought. Should she try to enter? Octavia knew that she came more than prepared for a confrontation, but for whatever reason, she wondered if that was the step she would thus take. From this evening she had gained quite a bit of intel, which made her hesitate to move forward just yet. What if trying to go in undercover would be more fruitful than a full blown attack? But then again, what if waiting to go undercover would be a waste of time that set her back?

She'd been debating on her plan of action for a while now. The professional side of her thought to just go in now and attack, but her more personal side, the one curious about and fascinated by the doctor, wanted to wait it out.

Finally, after wasting too much time standing around in thought, Octavia started a dash down the street, expertly hiding in the shadows along the way, as she made her way back to the motorcycle she had parked a number of blocks away. Waiting at least another day couldn't hurt, this she knew. She had decided that just attacking would not be in her best interest—it'd be better for her to wait till she could sneak around the building without disturbances. That way, she'd gather all the information she could need without encounter the Scarecrow.

She, however, was unaware of Crane's eyes watching her disappear from the basement window.

Not even a minute after entering the basement, he caught glimpse of a shadow dance across the room, shining in by the streetlights outside. His thugs had turned in for the night somewhere in rooms up above him, and now he was completely alone. Ever the cautious man, he snuck to the small, nearly unnoticeable window that was level with the pavement. He waited, not noticing anyone as he reached for his mask heedfully—the Scarecrow telling him that he had somehow been followed. He slipped the mask over his head quickly, eyes again returning to the street outside.

Finally, after about a minute or so, the same figure dashed across his vision, though only briefly. Crane couldn't make out any distinguishable features; all he saw was a person clothed in black disappear around a corner.

So, he _had_ been followed. But by who? And better yet, why?

His initial thought was the Batman. However, he scrapped that idea quickly; if it had been the infamous bat outside, then the man would have broken in and taken Crane on head first. But who else would have followed him? The doctor's head reeled with ideas, and he had drawn a couple of possibilities: 1) it was someone tied to the police, or 2) it was a lowly criminal who had no idea who they almost messed with. But, then again, he had just come from a meeting with the Chechen—was it possible he was followed by one of Maroni's men?

With a final cautious glance out the window, Crane returned his attention to the room around him—he had work to do, and obviously he wouldn't have to deal with anymore trouble for the night.

* * *

Upon her return home, Octavia almost immediately began stripping herself of all her gadgets and weapons. Luckily, she hadn't had to use anything tonight, and (though she always did enjoy a good fight) she hoped it would stay that way for the remainder of this job. After discarding everything safely away, Octavia also removed her catsuit, preferring nudity to clothes in the comfort of her own home, as she replaced it back in a drawer.

Octavia was eager to return to Crane's lab as soon as possible; after the evening she had, she felt incredibly reassured that the job would be easier than she had first anticipated. All she needed to do was stake out at the abandoned apartment for a couple of days, waiting for it to be empty and give her the chance to enter. However, the waiting was the worst part—sitting still for hours at a time was definitely not one of Octavia's favorite activities, but it was nonetheless a part of her job.

As Octavia grabbed for her notebook on Jonathan Crane (she kept separate notebooks for all the jobs she's had, dating all the way back to her first robbery with a couple of mob friends when she was just sixteen), she began to think of what she'd need this next time around. She'd bring her usually weaponry—a gun, a few knives, and her escrima sticks (which were her _favorite_ weapons to use, much to the surprise of others)—and her GPS in case she had any reason to track the van again. She'd also need her night vision goggles and, potentially, her camera and notepad. And, of course, the gas mask, in case she ran into any trouble along the way.

Octavia jotted down information about the apartment in the Narrows, as well is a description of the night, just for memory's sake. Maybe even as early as tomorrow evening, she'd be completing the job already, the thought both exciting her and depressing her. After all, Octavia expected an assignment like this would have been way more exciting than it turned out to be.

' _Oh well,_ ' she thought while looking back over her notes, eyes halting on an image of Crane that she had printed out. For a few long moments, she stared at his portrait, ' _guess next time I'll just have to secure a job killing the Batman if I want any excitement._ '

And with that final thought, Octavia decided it was time for her to get some rest for the next day.

* * *

 **Sooo, let me know what you thought of the chapter! Reading reviews is like opening Christmas presents, I love them!**

 **Also, shout out to Forbidden Moons and a guest reader for reviewing so far, I'm happy to be hearing your thoughts!**


	4. Three: Vicino alla Fiamma

**Thanks to everyone that left a review last chapter, I love hearing from you all!**

* * *

The following evening, Octavia was back on her perch atop an apartment building in the Narrows. She'd been here since about the time the sun set a few hours ago, and so far there was very little—okay, _absolutely no_ —excitement. While sat on the rooftop, she observed the opposite apartment more closely. She'd noticed that a small handful of the city's homeless took up residence here, confirming that the building was technically abandoned; however, it seemed that the building still had power, as every now and again Octavia noticed lights turning on or off, much to her confusion. She suspected that was somehow Crane's doing, probably for the sake of his lab space.

Speaking of the lab, Octavia nearly missed that there were a couple of basement windows spaced out around the building. In her defense, the windows were rather small (only a child could possibly fit through them), and she probably would have continued to miss them if not for a subtle light peeking out from inside. Luckily for her, the night vision goggles she'd brought along were a great help in keeping an eye on the basement, however, she knew she could do better.

' _Maybe I need to hook up a camera to one of the windows…_ ' She pondered, realizing that, from this distance, spying on Crane would be all too difficult.

Though the basement remained almost entirely dark the whole evening, Octavia was almost certain that the man was down there. She'd caught just enough flickers of lights here and there from the windows to lead her to this thought. Which, she decided, was another reason for getting a camera—at least then she'd know when her chance came to strike.

With a dejected sigh, Octavia thought maybe to turn in for the evening, only because her efforts wouldn't be very much worth it. Once she installed a camera (and she decided that that had to be done almost immediately), she could move along the process faster. So, she stole another glance at the basement windows before her descend back down to the street.

* * *

Amberg Surveillance and Security was a small, family owned shop not far from Octavia's home. She'd learned about the place from her father some years back, as it was his favorite store to go to for all of his own home surveillance. The owner, Ross Amberg, was a kind, aging man who never asked too many questions—sometimes Octavia wondered if he was aware of her line of work, or if he simply saw her as any other ordinary client. Whatever the case, she got exceptional discounts and products, so she made it a habit of returning.

When she entered the shop the next morning, Mr. Amberg was sat at a desk, looking over a piece of equipment in front of him as if he'd been in the middle of repairs for hours (which, Octavia guessed, was probably true). At hearing the door chime, he looked up, a friendly smile taking over his face at the sight of the young woman.

"Ms. Octavia," he greeted warmly as he stood and approached her. Octavia returned his friendly gesture before eying the store, her own image bouncing back at her on a wall of computer monitors that showed off different types of surveillance cameras the store had to offer, "How's the family?"

Octavia gave a small shrug, "Same old, same old."

Mr. Amberg simply nodded, knowing he wouldn't get more of a response from her than that; he'd found that the young woman was quite the opposite of her father, who'd go on and on with Amberg about any and all topics whenever he came to visit. Octavia was always straight to business, but she was never cold.

"And what brings you in today?"

"I need a new type of security camera," she started, staring at her own image for a few moments on the screen closest to her, "the one I have doesn't really fit my needs anymore."

"Why, may I ask?"

"I had a break in the other evening." She lied skillfully, meeting the older man's gaze with concerned eyes, "and I wasn't aware of it for hours. I want a camera I can access wirelessly, anytime, anywhere."

Mr. Amberg raised an eyebrow thoughtfully, "Sounds very serious."

Octavia only nodded, knowing that if she expanded the lie too far, it wouldn't sound so real, "Do you have anything that fits the bill?"

Mr. Amberg began browsing his supply, eyes searching for something in particular, "I know a few, but the best ones'll cost ya."

"It's worth the price if myself and my belongings are safe." The man nodded, thoughtfully looking through various systems he had in store. After a minute, he perked up grabbing hold of a box and setting it on his countertop.

"This, I think you'll like," He started, opening up the package to show her the instruction manual. "It's incredibly discreet, with a strong wireless connection to the monitor." As he spoke, he pointed to the images of the items, "Now, the monitor itself is a little bulky—the company is still working on a handheld device—but, it's still small enough to fit into a backpack or large purse." He also pulled out the monitor to show it off; it was about the size of her laptop, which wasn't terrible at all. She could easily carry it in a bag with her, "Whatcha think?"

Briefly, Octavia skimmed over the manufacturer's information on the device, "It's perfect." She gave the man a practiced smile before flipping through the manual again, "I assume it's pretty quick to set up?"

"Very easily, especially for you, I think."

"Then I'll take it."

* * *

That same day, after reading through the instruction manual and preparing the surveillance camera, Octavia rode back into the Narrows, this time dressed in dark wash jeans, a leather jacket-hoodie combo, and her standard slightly-heeled boots. The day was overcast and there was a light sprinkle of rain in the air, though it certainly didn't bother her—it was March, now, and that month was always a part of Gotham's rainy season. And a part of her always loved the rain, loved the soothing and comforting atmosphere it created for her.

Octavia, again, parked her motorcycle a few blocks from Crane's building, hiding it down at the end of an alley in hopes that it wouldn't be taken. As an extra precaution, she pushed it behind a dumpster in hopes that it would go unnoticed, before beginning the few minute walk to the abandoned apartment.

In the bag strapped across her shoulders, Octavia had more supplies than just the camera and monitor; she never traveled anywhere unprepared, after all. Especially when she had to walk through the most dangerous part of the Narrows.

Finally, she had found her way back to the building that Crane was hiding out in. She leaned up against the wall of the apartments next door, retrieving a lighter and pack of cigarettes from her jacket pocket. Though she very rarely smoked anymore, she found that it was a good ploy to look nonchalant while staking out an area during the day (and she'd admit, something about the cold weather always seemed to make her crave them).

For the next minute, Octavia watched the on-foot traffic passing the building, pulling her hood more snugly around her hair and face—luckily for her, there weren't all that many people around.

During the day, it was much easier for Octavia to peer into the basement windows. She couldn't see much, but she did spot a lot of dust covers, and she could only assume they were Crane's way of hiding his work when he wasn't around. She then let her gaze wander up the side of the building, eying various windows curiously; where was he hiding out, she wondered.

After snuffing out the Marlboro she finished off, Octavia casually roamed around the side of the building until she could not longer see the street—she wouldn't get caught doing something suspicious if no one could see her. Quickly, she glanced up at all the windows of the surrounding buildings, though she imagined that, if anyone had seen her, they didn't even remotely care. In this neighborhood, no one cared much about anything.

Octavia crouched down, slowly looking in through the basement window nearest her. As she expected, no one was in sight.

Quickly, she went to work setting up her camera. Just as Mr. Amberg had said, it was incredibly discreet, and she suspected that Crane wouldn't have seen it even if she pointed it out to him from a few feet away.

It only took Octavia a brief few minutes to set everything up. Before leaving the alleyway, she checked to make sure that her connection to the monitor was strong. Though the image wasn't the brightest without extra light, she knew she'd still be able to spot movement no matter how subtle the lighting. Satisfied with her work, she returned the monitor to her bag.

A moment later, Octavia walked back out to the street, lighting up another cigarette and glaring at any man that looked at her the wrong way.

Luckily, she wasn't gone long, and somehow her motorcycle was still safe and in one piece. She quickly jumped back on and began to ride home.

Upon her return, Octavia tried to take a few moments not to think about the job. She'd found that, oftentimes, she tended to engulf herself fully into the more interesting assignments, giving herself very little time for other thoughts. And she'd admit, this Scarecrow job was of particular interest to her; however, she needed to let her thoughts focus on something else, at least for a short while.

So, first things first, she entered the kitchen and prepared herself some coffee, digging through her fridge for a snack as the drink brewed. After picking an apple from the fruit drawer, she turned and walked to her room, glancing over her selection of books lined up on a shelf. She quickly picked up a Hemingway novel at random before returning to the kitchen to collect her coffee.

Octavia settled herself into the couch, hoping to enjoy her little distraction for a few hours.

She had only read past the second chapter when she had received a call from Maroni, much to her annoyance. Though Octavia hesitated to answer (she was trying to have some quiet time, damn it), she knew the man would persistently try to call her if she ignored him.

 _"Is the job done yet?"_ He asked without even so much as a greeting, and she nearly rolled her eyes at his impatience.

"Miracles don't happen overnight, _Sally_." Octavia replied distractedly as she continued trying to read the pages of her book. Briefly, she looked at the monitor she had sat on the desk, wondering if at any point Crane had wandered down to his basement. On the other end of the line, she could hear Maroni grumble at the pathetic nickname.

 _"It's been over a **week** , Octavia."_ He insisted, causing the woman to scoff.

"It's been a week since our meeting, yes." She replied simply, "However, I only just had the chance to start the assignment two days ago. You need to learn a bit of patience if you want a job done right."

 _" **Baresi** …"_ The man's tone was intimidating, like a warning, but again Octavia just rolled her eyes.

"It'll be done when it's done. Now, I gotta get back to work, and I can't very well finish the job with you make these social calls."

 _"Fine, fine!"_ Maroni replied, _"But just know, kid, that every day it takes you to finish is a day closer to us killin' ya."_

"I don't remember reading that in the contract…" Octavia replied sardonically. A moment later, the mobster had hung up the phone.

One of these days, if she kept up with her sarcasm, she was going to get her neck wrung by that man, she just knew it. But, until that day, she'd have her bit of fun pushing the envelope.

With a sigh, Octavia returned her attention to the novel in her hand, though she couldn't help but to steal a look at the surveillance monitor every few minutes.

* * *

At this rate, Octavia practically felt like she lived in the Narrows.

Once more, she sat up on a rooftop since sunset, watching the apartment building and hoping she wouldn't be as bored as the night prior. Sometime after her arrival, she spotted subtle, flickering lights on the top floor of the apartment, most likely candles, which caught her attention immediately—if the building still had it's electricity, why was it that whomever lived on the top floor never utilized it? After realizing this, she also noted that the only floors that ever seemed to use the electricity were the first two or three. Octavia didn't want to jump to conclusion, but she had learned enough to know that it may be something worth investigating.

Eventually, the flickering lights were diminished, just as the white van pulled into the alleyway alongside the apartment. Octavia's eyes immediately zoned in on them, and she placed the night vision goggles over her head to get a better look. A minute later, Crane and two of his goons exited the building to meet with the two that had driven the van. Briefly, the group spoke in hushed tones before beginning to collect some items to load into the van—Octavia would guess that they were doing some kind of drug run. With that thought in mind, she became hopeful; if Crane would be out for the night, it would make her investigation of his lab that much easier.

For another minute, the group stood outside, talking again for a quick minute, and Octavia could feel herself growing rather impatient. But eventually, three of the five men piled into the car. None of which were Crane, Octavia realized in annoyance. So he didn't take part in any of the direct distribution, it would seem.

Crane and the last guard left behind reentered the apartment building silently. Immediately, Octavia directed her eyes to the monitor in her hands; a moment later, Crane appeared on her screen, making her wonder where his guard disappeared to. With that thought, she redirected her gaze up, wondering if maybe the flickering lights on the top floor were because of the other man.

But after a couple of minutes, she knew that possibility could be scratched off the list. So, Octavia returned her gaze to her monitor, watching as Crane lit a few candles before uncovering his work space. It suddenly dawned on her how intimate this felt, watching the doctor in his element and working away at what he was passionate about. It was a strange thought to have crossed her mind, and quickly she tried to shake it away.

For nearly an hour she sat and watched. A part of her wondered why the fuck she came back at night, because now she was realizing that was when Crane _always_ chose to do his work. She should have just snuck in this morning when she saw that the room was vacant instead of setting up a damn camera. But the upside to this situation is that Octavia now knew the man's general patterns through the day.

And then, a thought crossed her. Crane would probably be down there all night. And that room on the top floor still remained dark. Putting two and two together, Octavia assumed that he had to be the person occupying that corner room. If that was his private space, then there must be _something_ of interest there. Sure, there would probably be nothing regarding Maroni's drugs (which, she had to remind herself, was her actual assignment. She wasn't just sent here to snoop all night to her heart's delight.), but Octavia couldn't deny her curiosity about the criminal. And now would be the perfect opportunity for her to take a peek into his world.

A part of Octavia knew it was foolish of her to go in to investigate something irrelevant to the job, but at this point she couldn't stop herself. Briefly, she let her personal interest and curiosity take the forefront of her thoughts.

So, she replaced the monitor into the backpack she brought along with her, stealing a final look at Crane on the screen. She then hid it near the ventilation system, though she doubted anyone else would wander up onto the roof and take it. She double checked herself to ensure that everything she needed was attached to her belt before she made her way back to the ground and dashed across the street once more.

As she stood in front of the door, Octavia glanced around her for any sign of life; save for the couple of homeless people hanging around, she was alone for now, and she knew not to worry about those people.

Just as she was about to reach for the door knob, a thought crossed her—this was the entryway Crane most commonly used. So, maybe, he'd hear her upon entry and her entire plan (or lack thereof) would go to shit. Instead, Octavia decided to walk around to the front entrance.

The front doors were once probably well kept and attractive, but now, one had it's glass shattered and they were practically falling off their hinges. Octavia entered quietly, night vision goggles still in place as there weren't any lights on in the halls. From underneath various doorways, she could see light spilling into the hall, once again confirming that a handful of the homeless were living here. But it didn't matter—what trouble would they cause her?

As Octavia entered the apartment building, her thoughts briefly drifted to the basement—she was more than certain that Crane was still down there, which she hoped gave her enough time to snoop around the top floor. Though she still couldn't be completely sure that he occupied the seventh floor, she had gathered enough proof from the last few nights—tonight in particular—that it was his.

As she found the staircase alongside an elevator (which had a sign reading "out of order" hanging off the front), Octavia took note of the noise around her. There honestly wasn't very much of it, but if she listened closely enough she could hear the chatter of some of the homeless, which managed to be both soothing and stirring simultaneously.

With a final glance back to entrance, Octavia began the trek up to the seventh floor.

* * *

 **Okay, I'll admit, the first half of this chapter seemed kinda filler-y, but it's leading up to something good! The next chapter is actually really rad, because it's from one of the ideas that actually inspired me to write the story in the first place. Sooo, as always, reviews are incredibly appreciated, and I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter!**


	5. Four: Gioco Malvagio

**Hello, lovelies! Like I mentioned before, I was _super_ excited to share this chapter with everyone, and now it's finally here! I hope you all love it as much as I do!**

* * *

Quickly, Octavia ascended the staircase, remaining quiet even though she wasn't trying to be sneaky (it was just her footsteps, she'd claim—that she's always just moved quietly). She could confirm that levels three through six remained unoccupied; she'd supposed that the guards that stayed with Crane remained on the lowers levels, though whether for defense purposes or because Crane liked his space, she couldn't be sure.

Upon reaching the top floor, Octavia halted, eying her surroundings to make sure she was safe. Every door in the hall (save for one at the very end corner) was open, allowing moonlight to stream in, but otherwise it was completely dark. Octavia kept the night vision goggles over her eyes, deciding that the light of the moon just wasn't going to be enough. At spotting the last door on the right, Octavia approached—if it was the only one closed then it must have been Crane's.

When she tried opening the door, it was locked. _Of course_ it was. But one of the first things you learn in Octavia's trade is how to pick a lock, and immediately she went to work at it. It took maybe a total of twenty seconds once her tools were in hand, and then Octavia was in Crane's little world.

The room wasn't much of anything at all. It was a studio apartment, so nearly everything was within Octavia's view. The majority of the space was barren, with virtually no furniture save for a table, an aging chair, and two mattresses stacked atop each other. Slowly, Octavia walked through the room. The tabletop was covered in papers and candles and pens, all stacked and lined up rather orderly. Briefly, Octavia shuffled through the paperwork, noting that most of it was regarding Crane's research. Swiftly, she removed the camera from her pouch, glancing once at the doorway to make sure she hadn't been found out. She began capturing photos of a few papers; of course, she didn't need a record of this information, it was more for personal fascination than for her work with Maroni. They could be something for her to read through on a casual Wednesday night in, maybe.

Octavia then moved swiftly to the bed, noting that there was a stack of books with more papers on them. Candles also lined the floor nearby—in fact, candles lined quite a number of surfaces in the space. Obviously, Crane wanted zero evidence on the outside that anyone had been living here, and using the electricity in the room would only draw attention. It was incredibly smart of him, Octavia would admit, but she wouldn't put the smarts past him; after all, the man was a _doctor_.

Octavia continued to drift about the room, taking a peek into his bathroom (quickly finding nothing of interest) before taking a moment to look through his closet (where there were only a few changes of tattered suits). She started eying the floor in search of what else the doctor may have lying around, though she knew she'd find much more interesting things once she got down to the basement.

* * *

Upon setting foot on the seventh floor, the Scarecrow knew something was wrong. He froze, head cocked as his flashlight shone down the hall. His door was _open_. And Crane knew that he would never, ever have left it unlocked, let alone _open_.

 **It's that _fucking_ snoop from two nights ago!** The Scarecrow's tone practically growled as Crane turned off his flashlight. How did they know which room he hid out in?

It didn't matter. What did matter is that they'd been spying on him and now they were in his personal space. And, if the Scarecrow had any say in it, he was going to end them.

Immediately, Crane pulled his burlap mask from a pocket lining the inside of his worn jacket, securing it over his head before approaching the room.

* * *

Suddenly, Octavia stopped moving altogether. She was almost certain she heard footsteps out in the hall. She waited, momentarily; yes, she could _definitely_ make out the subtle sound of someone trying to be light on their feet. They almost would have succeeded in sneaking up on Octavia if she wasn't as well trained and experienced as she was. Quickly, she retrieved the gas mask from her belt, securing it over her mouth and nose as she turned her attention for the doorway.

She was a little afraid, she'd admit. But only because this was almost definitely the Scarecrow she was about to face up against.

But Octavia pushed that fear to the side—she didn't want to give him exactly what he craved, after all. So, with her typical silent steps, she moved for the hallway.

Octavia froze where she stood as she stared down the hall—only ten to fifteen feet away stood the Scarecrow, staring right back at her intensely, looking as if he had halted mid-step. Though his face was hidden by the burlap mask, the moonlight caught his bright blue eyes (though, with the goggles on, Octavia couldn't make out their color) as they bore into her goggled green ones. Neither of the two moved, but they held their ground as they began to size each other up.

In the forefront of her mind, Octavia was grateful that she had concealed the lower half of her face in the gas mask—in part, because she never knew when the man would release his toxic, but also because his gaze was so powerful that she imagined he could read her too cleanly if he saw her entire face.

The Scarecrow had grown rather accustomed to the dark of the apartment building, and his eyes could more easily make out the woman in front of him than hers would have him. He was only mildly surprised to see that his opponents face was entirely hidden—they were smart enough to bring a mask with them. He was, however, surprised by their size—though he may not have been the tallest man, he could still tell that he was definitely taller and broader than the woman before him.

Finally, the Scarecrow took a step forward territorially, and Octavia instinctively pulled her escrima sticks from her belt, "Why is it that you've been spying on me?" His tone was cold and severe and menacing as his eyes never left her face.

Octavia didn't grace him with a response, instead taking on a defensive stance. The Scarecrow glared at the lack of reply from the woman—just who was she, anyway? In his head, Crane was sifting through ideas; obviously, he couldn't use his fear gas on her, as she had come prepared for it. If he could get close enough, he could inject her with the toxin, though. But then that meant he had to somehow get himself to her side without injury (or with as little as possible). And from the looks of this woman, Crane knew she could very well hold her own in a fight. Sure, he'd taken up some training to better defend himself if his goons weren't around, but Crane was certain just from the looks of her that her expertise wildly surpassed his.

Octavia was growing impatient, seeing the man caught up in thought as he tried to remain intimidating. So, with a decisive sigh, she charge at him, escrimas raised and prepared for a fight.

For his part, the Scarecrow was fast, scrambling around her charge and raising his fists. Honestly, Crane nearly doubted that he'd succeed; the Scarecrow, however, was a more primitive creature, and he most certainly wouldn't go down without a fight. Octavia's gaze was fierce as she rounded on him, going in for the attack. But again, Scarecrow dodged, this time catching a glimpse of the arsenal on her utility belt. Instinctively, he reached forward, managing to snag a dagger off of her before dropping to the ground to dodge her quickly swinging fists. Of course, she utilized her feet, landing a couple of swift kicks to his abdomen before he could begin charging the blade at her. The Scarecrow rose to his feet again, but rapidly was pinned up against the wall, the woman forcefully restraining his hand holding the blade.

"I was honestly hoping we wouldn't have to fight." She spoke, and her tone definitely had a teasing hint to it.

"Explains the weapons then." The Scarecrow jabbed back, causing Octavia to roll her eyes as she pressed one of her escrimas more roughly against his neck.

"Look, I didn't wanna go about getting information outta you this way, but you aren't giving me a choice," she said simply (and was that an accent he picked up on?), viridescent eyes staring harshly through the night vision goggles, "So, tell me what you've been doing to Maroni's drugs."

The Scarecrow nearly chuckled, " _Maroni_ sent you?" Behind his mask, Scarecrow grinned darkly, "Why would he go through the trouble to send a bitch like you when he could've just asked on his own?" Neither individual could read what the other was thinking, "Is he _afraid_?"

Octavia, in response, only applied more pressure to his neck, leaning in closer to use her body weight against him, "He knows I'll kill ya if I have to."

"Hmm…" The Scarecrow seemed… unafraid. In fact, Octavia couldn't quite tell what he was thinking, as it seemed he was void of any current emotion. Nonetheless, she maintained her ruthlessness as she watched him as he began to speak in a rather condescending tone, "You must not be of any importance if he sent you up against me."

Now, Octavia's brow furrowed, both confused and frustrated with the man.

And suddenly, with a speed Octavia hadn't expected, a needle was jabbed into her exposed neck, causing her eyes to widen as she could feel the immediate effects of the toxin.

 _No, no, no!_ She shut her eyes tightly, as if somehow it could stop the fear from reaching her. But in an instant she was panting shakily, dropping her grip from the Scarecrow as she grabbed hold of her head.

"Stop it!" She yelled out, suddenly feeling a thousand pairs of hands grabbing at her, punching her, trying to pull her apart. The Scarecrow watched in satisfaction as the young woman stumbled back, tripping over her feet and falling to the floor as she fought against whatever it was she saw.

Surrounding her on the floor were snakes—snakes of every size and species, all gliding across her skin, some biting, some coiling around her limbs. Octavia screamed out again as she felt the hands gripping and hitting wherever the snakes weren't already attacking. All logic had flown out the door as she tried to fight against the bodies, tried to escape but to no avail.

" _ **How did you expect to win?**_ " a voice growled ominously at her from the darkness. Suddenly, wide eyes fell on a man—no a snake—no a man—with a burlap face, a haphazardly stitched tongue flicking in her direction as it approached her. It stood over her, causing her to cower away. But there was no escape. More snakes encompassed her body as more indistinguishable men came at her full force.

All Octavia wanted in that moment was to be dead.

She knew she had begun to cry, beginning to feel helpless in her fight against the reptiles and men. She continued to scream, to yell, to fight, not willing to give up yet.

The Scarecrow continued to step closer, enraptured by the woman's response to his toxin; he always did enjoy seeing people so strong turn into a complete mess in front of him. He continued to egg her on.

" ** _How did you expect to face up against_** _me_ ** _?_** " Again, the growling, hissing voice intimidated Octavia as she stared into the burlap face, it's eyes full of fire. She yelled out, frightened but determined, and swung her fist.

The Scarecrow stumbled back, completely surprised but the power of the woman's swing as it came in contact with his face. He nearly growled in anger, eyes blazing as he redirected his attention to her. With rapid pace, he grabbed the front of her catsuit, lifting her closer, and preparing to yell as he ripped the night vision goggles from her face. He was very briefly taken in by how green her eyes appeared in the moonlight, though it didn't even remotely matter right now.

But again, Octavia lashed out at the near darkness.

 _'So, she responds to fear with aggression…'_ Crane thought as he dropped her to nurse the forming bruise on his cheek. At this rate, she was still a danger to him, and the Scarecrow had to end it. However, he didn't have an anti-toxin on him—why would he carry one unless he was working on an experiment? If this hadn't been his hideout, he would have just left the woman without a care. But, with the condition she was in, he was almost certain he'd have more than enough time to get down to the basement to recover an anti-toxin and get her to shut the hell up. It was his only real option right now.

So, quickly, he made his way around her fighting body and to the stairwell.

Octavia watched as the burlap snake disappeared rather suddenly into the encompassing darkness. He was the least of her concerns, however, as she still had to fight off all the men attempting to beat her to death. She could hear their voices, garbled and gruff as they shouted insults and swung fists. Octavia once more tried to fight back, throwing punches and kicks of her own, but the men continued on, completely unharmed no matter how hard she tried.

Eventually, she managed to get back to her feet, continuing to fight, though she knew at this point it was a lost cause. Snakes still bit and coiled at her feet, and she could feel the venom and fangs, could feel her body's response to the pain. She was becoming weaker, that much was obvious.

Octavia tried to run, thinking that maybe she could out run all the enemies. But her vision was foggy and dark and all around her were more men and more snakes.

As the Scarecrow ascended the staircase, he halted only momentarily in surprise to see that the woman had somehow managed to make her way to the top of the stairwell.

 **Persistent little bitch, isn't she?** the Scarecrow growled in frustration, though Crane couldn't help but be utterly fascinated by the woman's response to his toxin.

The burlap snake was back. Octavia's eyes widened as she watched it move toward her like lightning.

"No, please!" She yelled out, but not a moment later she felt his sharp bite against her neck, and the world suddenly started to go blacker than she thought it ever could.

For a few long moments, Crane stared down at the woman unconscious at his feet. Initially, he thought that it'd be best for him to take her, lock her up somewhere in the basement and use her for further experiments. The Scarecrow in particular wanted to see her tortured, but Crane knew better than that. He saw how strong she was, and he knew that, if he tried to lock her up, she'd find her way out and just try to fight him all over again. No, he decided, he had to get rid of her.

So, with that in mind, he bent down to lift her from the ground; though he was most certainly not the strongest man, Crane had still built up muscle over the years, especially recently since his escape from Arkham, knowing he had to be able to hold his own in a fight. And, if he was being honest, this woman wasn't a very large person to begin with—she was not quite on the side of being petite, certainly no 100 pound porcelain doll, but she was nonetheless small enough for him to carry with little struggle.

As Crane descended the staircase once more, he was more thankful now than he had been before that the apartment building was practically abandoned. Of course, with it being in the Narrows, it was not uncommon to find buildings left a vacant mess. The only neighbors Crane had to worry about were the homeless individuals that liked to take up residents on the first couple of floors. Early on, when he had first taking up hiding in the building, the homeless learned very quickly to keep their distance, unless they wanted to be dead (or worse). They were also smarter than to even try turning the mysterious, dangerous man into the police, especially since he always had men on guard among them.

Eventually, Crane had made it out the back door. If only he had one of his men here with the truck, then it'd have been much easier for him to get this woman as far from his safehouse as possible. But he had to make due, he knew begrudgingly.

It was late in the evening, probably just after one in the morning he'd guess. Not that it meant much in the Narrows. There were still people wandering the street, either drunk and stumbling their way home or they were homeless and searching for a place to sleep. Whatever the case, Crane didn't care, as long as he wasn't recognized (which made him realize he still had his mask covering his face, which made his identity more than a little obvious).

Crane stuck to the shadows and alleyways, walking for a good five minutes or so. The entire time, Scarecrow was in the back of his head, yelling at him to just end the woman then and there and be done with it. But Crane ignored him as he finally dropped the unconscious body to the ground in an alley where he spotted a homeless woman fast asleep against the wall. Around him, there was a light rainfall, and if he was a different man maybe he'd care about the possibility that this woman would freeze in the night.

But he wasn't a different man, he was the Scarecrow. And the Scarecrow wanted to watch her suffer.

As he was preparing to leave, Crane stole another look at the woman, halting for a moment as his eyes settled on the gas mask that still encompassed her nose and lips. He cocked an eyebrow curiously, kneeling down before her; why he cared what she looked like underneath, he wasn't entirely sure. Maybe he just wanted to be prepared to recognize her when—no _if_ —she managed to find him again. So, quickly, he pulled the mask from her face, taking in her features with an erudite eye—he could tell earlier that evening that she was young, though her features all together held a sense of great maturity. Her skin was quite tanned (she was of Italian descent, he recalled, if her accent had hinted at anything), chin and cheeks well defined, and lips moderately plump. He took notice now that it looked as if sometime in her past the woman's nose had been broken; though it wasn't immediately obvious, there was still a subtle bump where the bone had once been fractured. Or maybe he only noticed because he was, after all, a doctor, and he had a grasp on anatomy and injuries.

Finally, after he felt he had taken in her features for more than long enough, Crane stood, glancing once around himself before beginning the trek back to his building. Tonight, he had to get everything out and moved to a new hideout—it would be completely foolish if he thought he could stay put now that she knew about his work there. He'd have to call his men and get his equipment out as soon as possible; there was little time to waste, especially since this woman was working for Maroni.

* * *

 **So, how was that first interaction for everyone? Not quite what you may have expected, but it's definitely leading the story in an interesting direction. And as for Octavia's reaction to the fear toxin, I didn't necessarily want her to just see her worst fear—in Batman Begins, it seemed as if it was less about people's phobias and more about totally terrifying them, so I want to kind of fuse the two. IDK, I think I could definitely expand on it more in later chapters.**

 ** _Please_ leave me a review for this one, I was so excited about it and I would love to read everyone's thoughts and feedback!**

 **Also, big shoutout to Kyokkou because your review made me very happy! I'm glad to see that you're enjoying Octavia so far!**


	6. Five: Sale in Nostre Ferite

**So, I was a little surprised at the lack of response on the last chapter—I was so excited about it, and I thought that I'd hear back a lot about what everyone thought of Crane and their first meeting. It was a little discouraging to get so little feedback, but that won't stop me from posting more.**

* * *

Octavia awoke with a start, eyes shooting open and body darting up. She panted heavily, recalling the nightmares that had plagued her sleep—snakes and snakes and snakes, all surrounding her and attacking her. The only reason she even managed to wake up was because one of the snakes had lunged straight for her face, fangs glistening with venom, scaring Octavia enough to startle herself awake.

Upon sitting up, Octavia felt everything hit her at once—her throat was swollen and scratchy, her nose stuffed, her eyes aching and puffy. And she was _unbearably_ cold, shivering as she wrapped her arms around herself. Her head was pounding and her stomach was throbbing for food, and a part of Octavia almost wished she was asleep again, because then, at least, she wouldn't have felt all of this pain.

She then looked around herself, up and down the alleyway that she'd been discarded in. For a few long moments, Octavia tried to recall the prior evening and why _the fuck_ she was asleep in an alley to begin with. She glanced at her feet, noting the discard gas mask lying beside her. And then everything came rushing back.

Octavia recalled Crane's apartment and her confrontation with him. She remembered pinning him against a wall, thinking she had the upper hand before there was a small, sharp pain in her neck.

So his toxin wasn't only produced in gas form—that was just one more hassle Octavia had to deal with.

Slowly, she got to her feet, briefly looking up toward the sky—it was practically midday, and Octavia's mind went into a quick panic. She'd been passed out for much too long, and now she had to deal with walking around in the middle of the day in a very obvious catsuit that would surely draw attention. She could only imagine the looks she'd get.

Mentally, Octavia was beating herself up; how could she have been so stupid to land herself in a situation like this? This was a complete rookie move, and Octavia was not the type of woman to make such dumb mistakes. Yet, here she was, and there was no way of going back and rewriting the situation.

Another thought crossed her mind, causing Octavia's eyes to widen once more—what happened to all of her stuff? Her motorcycle and her bag full of weapons and supplies? Cursing to herself, Octavia exited the alley without a second thought. At this point, it didn't matter that she was obviously dressed to kill; what mattered was making sure she didn't lose any of her belongings because of her own stupidity. Besides, she thought, this was _the Narrows_ , and a woman in a catsuit would be the least of everyone's worries.

It took Octavia a few minutes to reorient herself and figure out where the hell she'd been dumped by the Scarecrow. Once she'd sorted out her bearings, she began back for the apartment she'd snuck into last night.

After her long and painful walk (after all, her head was still pounding, her body was still shivering, and her throat was still aching), Octavia finally came to a halt to stare at the complex, though only briefly. Immediately, she went to the back basement window, crouching down to peer inside.

Everything was gone.

She should have expected this, but _damn it_ did it piss her off nonetheless. Without a thought, Octavia gave the brick wall a swift punch, instantly chastising herself for the pain it caused. After a brief moment of nursing her now bleeding knuckles, the brunette picked up the surveillance camera still sat at the window's corner. She then crossed the street, and began climbing up the side of the opposite apartment building, at this point not even giving a fuck about who saw her.

Octavia was more than relieved to find her backpack still tucked away in its hiding spot, and she nearly hugged it with joy. Opening it up, she removed her utility belt and discarded all of her supplies inside; it may not be much, but at least now she would look just a little less suspicious.

With some of her hope restored, Octavia began the walk back to the alleyway she'd parked her motorcycle in.

Of course, that was missing, though.

Another swift punch to a wall, and another minute of cradling a bloody fist (she really should have known better than to try to punch brick). For a moment, Octavia could only stare at the spot her motorcycle once was; a part of her wasn't at all surprised that it had been stolen, but she was nonetheless disappointed.

How was she going to get home? Octavia pondered this thought for a minute, immediately crossing taxis and public transport of the list-with her current appearance, it was better to lay low. So, Octavia reached for her cell phone concealed in her backpack, doing the only thing she could think of.

She called her mother.

* * *

The drive back to Octavia's apartment was admittedly awkward. Upon her arrival to the shadiest part of the Narrows, Anita instantly took in her daughter's appearance—the young woman was a mess, and very obviously nursing a cold. When Octavia entered the vehicle she was silent, keeping her gaze unreadable and on the road ahead of them. Half of the drive was made in an uncomfortable silence, Anita trying to think of what to ask first and Octavia hoping her mother just wouldn't say a thing.

"What the hell happened to you, Octavia?" Finally, the older woman's voice broke the silent, and Octavia nearly flinched, though continued to remain silent, "Does this have somethin' to do with that damn Scarecrow case Maroni's gotcha doing? I swear to God, if it is, I'm going to have a serious talk with that man—"

"Ma, don't!" Octavia interrupted firmly, allowing her eyes to turn to her mother's perturbed gaze, "Don't you dare say a fuckin' thing to Maroni, alright? I don't want him to hear a single thing about what happened last night."

"And what _did_ happen last night?" Her mother's voice was both patronizing and concerned, "Vee, I find you bloody and pale and _obviously_ sick in an alley in the Narrows; I'm your mother, I can't help but be concerned for your safety."

"I messed up, alright." the young woman responded, crossing her arms in frustration, "Things just didn't go according to planned."

"What if you had _died_? That man could have easily killed ya."

"But he didn't!" Octavia interjected, "Can we just drop it?"

"Vee, I think you should back outta this job." Anita continued, unfazed by her daughter's last question, "Obviously, you're not the person for the job."

Octavia rolled her eyes, "But _I am_ , that's why Maroni called me—no one else could've done it."

"Octavia, please."

"No, mom, I'm finishing this; if I don't, Maroni won't be happy with any of us."

Anita sighed, growing silent again as she continued to watch the road. Of course she wanted to argue. Of course she wanted to tell her daughter it wasn't safe. But Octavia was too stubborn for her own good sometimes, and she wasn't going to let her family convince her to quit at this point.

Finally, the two pulled up to Octavia's apartment, and the younger woman quickly jumped out of the car. Anita was about to ask if she could come inside and make her some lunch (she was a mother, after all, it was instinctive to want help take care of her daughter), but she was interrupted.

"Please don't tell dad." Octavia requested simply, sounding younger than she had in years, "It's enough that you're concerned, I don't want him worrying as well; who knows what he'll do if he finds out."

Anita wanted to say 'no.' She wanted to force her daughter into her arms and convince her to quit. She wanted to tell her husband everything so that he'd threaten Maroni into ending the contract.

But she couldn't. Not with the look of plea her daughter was giving her. Octavia was an adult, she could make her own decisions (and she could take care of herself, she was always insisting). So, the elder brunette simply nodded, giving her daughter a comforting smile and 'goodbye' before driving away.

Back upstairs in her apartment, Octavia continued in her frustration, recalling the previous night. What was she going to tell Maroni? How could she tell him anything? She didn't want to deal with the hassle he'd give her when he finds out she royally fucked up. She couldn't do that, not now at least.

Octavia concluded that she'd just have to lay low, at least for the next couple of days. Until she figured out a new plan of action, she just wouldn't get in contact with Maroni. Simple. And if he asked any questions, she'd just have to lie until she figured something out.

Octavia decided that right now she needed a long, steaming shower. Maybe then she could relax a little. She quickly entered her bathroom, turning the water onto the hottest it could go before stripping out of her damp and sweaty clothes. Once inside, she began to scrub at her knuckles, scraping off the dried blood and examining the injuries. She started looking over her whole body, searching for any sign of exterior damage, and was relieved to discover that there was none.

The heat from the water running down her back soothed Octavia's muscles and sore throat, helping her to erase some of her negativity from the night before. Still, she thought about what she'd do next. She didn't want to deal with the trouble she'd get from Maroni, and she was more than a little aggravated by the Scarecrow's antics from their first encounter; she had to figure out a plan quickly if she was going to get anywhere.

Just as Octavia swept the last bit of shampoo from her hair, her eyes widened in thought quite suddenly. She (hopefully) still had her tracker strapped to the bottom of the Scarecrow's van. Quickly, she jumped out of the shower, sloppily wrapping a towel around her long, damp hair with a determined look on her face. She exited the bathroom, quickly retrieving her GPS from one of the multiple pockets on her backpack and looking to the screen. Sure enough, the tracker's mark was still on, causing Octavia to grin widely. From what she could tell, it looked to be somewhere near the docks—looks like she'd have to go investigate the area later on.

Almost as if on cue, Octavia loudly sneezed, causing her to grumble in annoyance—first, she needed to get as much over this cold as possible, and standing naked and freezing in the middle of her apartment wasn't going to help one bit.

* * *

Anita, initially, had no intention of telling her husband about what happened with Octavia. Her daughter had asked her to keep quiet, and so she planned to.

However, as the two sat down for dinner that same evening, Santino mentioned his opinion on their daughter's current job.

"It can't be good, ya know, having to get involved with a guy like the Scarecrow," the elder man started, "She doesn't seem to realize what she's gotten herself into; he could seriously hurt her."

Anita scoffed, without a thought saying, "You should've seen her this morning."

She immediately froze, registering her mistake as she met the eyes of her husband. Santino had stopped eating, brows furrowed at the woman across from him.

"This morning?" He set down his fork, "What do ya mean? What happened?"

"Tino…" Anita placed a hand over his, "Vee didn't want me to tell you, so you gotta remain calm, alright?"

" _What_ happened?" The man repeated more firmly.

"Vee called me this morning, askin' for a ride—her bike was stolen," Anita started slowly, watching her husband's face carefully, knowing that he'd be upset about the situation no matter what she said, "She was… in the Narrows. She didn't tell me anything, but I'm almost sure she got into a fight with the Scarecrow."

" _What_?" Santino couldn't help but hiss as he sat forward in his seat, eyes blazing with concern, "How is she? Is she going to be okay?"

Anita held up her hands, "Calm down, I think she's going to be fine. Aside from a cold and scraped up fists, it didn't look like anything happened to her."

"I gotta tell Maroni." The man said, leaning back in his seat and messaging his temple.

"Tino, _don't_ ; she asked me not to say anything."

"He's gotta know that I want her off the job," Santino was firm as he look to his wife, "I want her contract ended by this time tomorrow."

"If you do this you know she won't talk to you for weeks—remember what happened two years ago?" Anita set relaxing hands on her husband's arms, gazing into his dark eyes, "You know how she gets about work—you have to just let her handle things on her own."

Santino halted, staring at his wife for a few long moments, "I'll wait… but if something worse happens to her, don't stop me from going to Maroni."

Anita gave an understanding nod, rising from her seat to go prepare a coffee that she knew her husband could definitely use right about now.

* * *

Similarly, Octavia stood in her kitchen, an oversized sweater wrapped around her as she finished steeping her tea. Sometime that afternoon, she'd decided to take the night off so she could work past the stupid cold she got the previous night (Maroni could bitch all he wants if he finds out, at this point she didn't care).

As she moved to sit with her laptop, Octavia reached into her backpack, pulling out her camera and plugging it in to download her photos from her investigation of Crane's apartment. It took only about a minute or two for all the pictures to load, and as she sipped at her tea, she began to read them.

Crane had the stereotypical doctor's handwriting, practically impossible to read unless you were familiar with it. Octavia struggled at first, but the longer she looked at his looping cursive writing, the easier it became for her to understand it.

Octavia once more found herself fascinated by the doctor—reading his notes was almost like a whole new insight on him and his work. The notes she'd manage to capture pictures of started out being full of ideas and equations and scientific figures she could only ever hope to understand; halfway through, however, they became documentations of his more recent experiments, causing Octavia's eyes to widen in realization. She was reading about _real_ people and their fears, real reactions to Crane's toxin—it nearly unsettled her to picture Crane stashing people in basements and forcing them to live out their greatest fears over and over again.

At that point, Octavia stopped reading. She began to recall her own response to the toxin (though only in hazy fragments that didn't make complete sense), and it caused her to mildly panic. _That_ was something she didn't want to relive at all. So, she needed to distract herself from those thoughts instead. Octavia went back to the book she had set aside yesterday when she had to get back to work, picking up where she had left off in hopes that she'd forget the hallucinations that had plagued her before.

* * *

Sometime in the early morning, a number of hours before the sun was up, Crane and his men managed to find a small, unused boathouse at the Upper Gotham docks. The neighborhood was rather familiar to the doctor—once upon a time, Jonathan Crane hadn't lived all that far from the area-so he knew of the boathouse once used by Gotham University's rowing team before they stopped receiving funding from the school.

The boathouse was a small building at the farthest end of the dock district, giving the group more than enough privacy for their work. It wasn't a particularly extravagant structure, but nonetheless it still had space for all of Crane's equipment. Upon breaking the locks and entering the building, the men found that along the back wall were two garage doors hung a few feet into the water lapping against the building's structure and one standard size door leading to the private dock on the river, and above there was a small loft-like space with outside access (probably once used by coaches to watch their rowers out on the water). Old boating equipment still lined one of the walls, and the space still had a few tables and chair scattered around. There was also a single row boat left behind, though not much else beyond that.

Lucky for the four guards, they all had homes they could return to every evening if they so wished (though Crane always insisted they rotate guard so that there were always one to two of them around at a time), but Crane would be the one stuck here every night. A couple of guards were sent back to the apartment building from which they came, directed to collected the mattresses from Crane's old room and to also collected the small assortment of non-perishable foods that the man may have had lining his cabinets. Tomorrow, he could focus on getting electricity sorted out so that he could continue his work and tolerate his living space better. For now, all he really needed was a bit of rest, but even that had to wait on the return of his guards.

 **You know, Johnny, you should've just ended the bitch back there. You know she'll only cause us more trouble now.** The Scarecrow's voice started up as Crane exited the back door leading out to the boathouse dock, **Could've at least used her for our work.**

"If I did anything to her—" Crane started out loud, checking over his shoulder to see if any of his guards were paying him any attention, "—it would've looked suspicious. Thanks to her, I'm onto Maroni's plan now, so I need to convince him that I'm still a reliable partner."

 **And keeping that girl alive will somehow do that for you?**

"Killing her would have been too obvious, they'd know I was hiding something. If I can just make Maroni think he has the situation all wrong, he'll back off and I can continue our work."

The Scarecrow was silent for a few brief moments, **… And we kill her after that?**

Crane rolled his eyes, "Not unless we have to. If I play this right, Maroni's men might just take care of her for us."

 **Sounds like you just wanna take the fun out of everything.** The Scarecrow's tone was harsh and mocking, **Don't get soft on me, Johnny, just 'cause she's a nice piece of ass.**

Crane scoffed as he looked up and down the Gotham River dully, "Of the two of us, you're the only one that ever noticed anything like that."

In an outfit like that, how could anyone not?

Crane decided then to ignore his other half, choosing to slip back inside and begin setting up the equipment he had.

If he could just play his cards right, he was certain that within a couple weeks Maroni would be off his back, thinking there'd be nothing for him to suspect. And then Crane wouldn't have to deal with the pathetic mobster or his little spy anymore.

* * *

 **I have a little game for everyone—you won't win anything, but I guess it'll amuse me a little. Translate the titles of each chapter, and see if you can figure out how they somehow all connect. Maybe it'll be easy, maybe not, but hey, could be fun.**

 ** _Please_ leave me some reviews, let me know what you think of the story progression, of the way Scarecrow interacts with Crane, what you think of anything. Especially what you think of the last chapter, that chapter was my baby, okay.**

 **Till next time, lovelies!**


	7. Six: Scatena il Rosso

**I'm back! Sorry for going MIA for a while** — **I was struggling with the story a little bit, and then I also had some shitty personal stuff piling up. But now it's a new year, and I'm ready to get back to writing!**

 **I've written all the way up to the beginning of chapter nine, but that chapter has been giving me some trouble, so I've been writing excerpts from all over the place. Hopefully I can pull it all together and get this story into working order!**

 **On another note, I'm going to up the rating to M, because I know future chapters are definitely going to include mature content.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Octavia was halfway through applying her eyeliner when she received a call from Maroni. With a roll of her eyes, she grabbed her cell phone up quickly.

"Wow, calling again after two days, I think someone has a soft spot for me." She joked, putting the phone on speaker as she continued with her make-up.

" _We need you here for a meeting._ " Maroni spoke, choosing to ignore Octavia's annoying jokes.

"Sorry, we'll have to reschedule, my calendar is already full." The young woman replied. In reality, she did actually have somewhere important to be, she wasn't just making up some excuse (which she completely would have done otherwise). The night prior, she'd gotten a call from a prospective client, asking if they could discuss a potential job. Although Octavia knew the job she had on her plate was more than enough for the time being, she assured the client that they'd meet anyway at least to discuss the details. If she liked the sound of it enough, Octavia would start the new job when she was finished with this one.

" _No, we're meeting now, and you're going to be here._ " the mobster replied firmly, refusing to take no for an answer.

"You're not my only client, ya know." Octavia now picked up her mascara.

" _When you're working my jobs I am. Now, stop arguing and come down to the club._ " The brunette sighed as she completed her make-up.

"Fine, fine, I'll leave in a few minutes."

" _Now, Baresi._ "

"In. A. Few. Minutes." Octavia repeated, emphasizing each word as she did. This time, she was the one to hang up the call, turning to her wardrobe and began digging out an outfit for the afternoon.

* * *

Upon her arrival at the club, Octavia was met with a guard waiting for her at the door, whom she gave a brief nod and a crooked, forced smirk to. Aside from a subtle nod, he gave no acknowledgement to her as he opened the back door and began escorting her inside. On the drive over, Octavia pondered what sort of annoying questions Maroni would put to her today, knowing the list was probably infinite. She also wondered why he wanted to meet in the first place, and the paranoid part of her suspected that somehow he found out about her slip up from a couple nights ago. She was really hoping not to deal with that can of worms quite so soon.

She and the guard made zero conversation as they walked through the silent, empty club, and Octavia almost preferred the place at night when it was full of too many people and too much noise. This time, she was guided past the bar and the private rooms to an office situated in a far corner.

"We really _must_ stop meeting like this, Sally," Octavia said instantly as the door was opened for her. A grin was spread across her lips, but it quickly disappeared into something serious at the sight of the room's occupants.

Seated across from Maroni at a small meeting table was none other than Jonathan Crane, Octavia recognizing him almost immediately from the photos she'd seen. His eyes watched Octavia like a hawk, bright and azure and hardly blinking.

"Good of you to finally join us, Octavia." Maroni spoke up, feeling the obvious tension in the room, but choosing to ignore it (he also nearly enjoyed it, seeing that damn Baresi kid finally uncomfortable), "Take a seat, kid—we got a lot to discuss."

Octavia eyed the table, choosing to sit as far as possible from Crane—an act that didn't escape his attention.

As soon as she had entered the room, the Scarecrow took in every bit of her image. Today, she had near perfect makeup with winged eyeliner and filled in brows; her hair (much longer than he had first anticipated it to be) fell down her back in waves. She was clad in a low cut top and leather jacket, and a pair of flared jeans hugged her legs—and for whatever odd reason, that fashion choice surprised him. The boots she sported underneath were heeled, and Crane imagined she worn them often to appear less small.

Though her fashion choices were of absolutely no interest to him, Crane found that it was _how_ she behaved while dressed in them that mattered. While in her catsuit with all her tools and weapons attached to her hips, she was tough and angry. Now, before she had noticed his presence, she was still tough, but not in a way intended to be intimidating—she was tough in that she was bold, in that she had an attitude that everyone had the _pleasure_ of encountering. She somehow had a friendlier demeanor, even with the sarcastic tone thrown in Maroni's direction. Crane was really seeing the woman behind the mask, and though fascinated, he was satisfied to capture her in a brief moment of weakness (and the Scarecrow, somewhere in the back of his head, insisted Crane moved closer to get a better look at her).

Briefly, the room was silent as both Octavia and Crane took in the appearance of one another (and Octavia noted a bruise that seemed to form over his right cheekbone), and Maroni watched both with intrigued eyes.

"Let's skip these pesky introductions," Maroni finally spoke up again, "and get right to business."

Octavia allowed her eyes to leave Crane's, returning her attention to the mobster across from her, "What's happenin' here, Maroni?" She asked, hiding any evidence of concern from her tone.

"Our friend here, Dr. Crane," Octavia nearly scoffed at the term 'friend,' "came to talk with me this mornin', saying he had an… unwelcome encounter with someone under my employment. Said he was attacked by a woman who broke into his home." Briefly, Octavia's eyes narrowed into a glower as she stole a glance at Crane, who had now turned his gaze to the mob boss, "Now, I don't want there to be any kinda trouble between all of us, which is why I called for the meeting.

"So, Dr. Crane, the reason I wanted someone to collect intel on you was because I received a tip that there was somethin' fishy about your supply and that you may have been tamperin' with ours; I never intended any harm against you," there, Octavia rolled her eyes, realizing that Maroni had a play in mind, "But since you came forward to me about the situation today, I've realized that the tip was probably false, and I am _deeply_ sorry about ever assuming that you weren't a trustworthy partner in this."

"It's an understandable mistake," Crane spoke up, his voice cool and void of any sign at what he was thinking, "people aren't always so willing to trust a man in my position."

"And I know Octavia here is probably just as sorry about trying to cause you any harm—I don't know what she was thinkin', tryin' to break into your place like that."

Octavia had kicked her legs up onto the table, becoming irritated at Maroni's behavior (though she didn't expect anything less from a guy like him), "I'm not sorry for doin' my job."

Maroni's eyes flashed with warning at the young woman before returning to Crane, "She misinterpreted my request of her, that's all."

Crane nearly smirked at the woman's backhanded response, "It's in the past, Mr. Maroni, I think we can all move forward from it."

"Of course," the mobster replied, "However, Dr. Crane, you must understand that, in the position I'm in, I have to see these tips through. I don't doubt that you're a good man to keep in my acquaintance, but for the sake of everyone else under my employment, I'd like to propose a new agreement."

This statement caught Octavia's attention, and she sat up a little straighter in her seat out of curiosity. Crane looked between the pair with a raised eyebrow, hiding the frustration growing at Maroni's mention of a new agreement.

"What I'd like to do is have our friend Ms. Baresi here," briefly, the older man directed a hand in her direction, "check in on you every now and again." Crane was about to speak, but Maroni interrupted, "I know you'll probably insist it's completely unnecessary, but my men are still wary, and I'd like them to feel comfortable doing business with ya. After all, they are my employees, and each of them is very important to me."

For a few long moments, Crane was silent, and Octavia could see a certain frustration in his eyes, though he took great care to try to hide it.

 **Gas the asshole and say no.** The Scarecrow insisted, but Crane hushed him, trying to collect his thoughts. Of course he wasn't fond of the mobster's suggestion, however, he needed to have a play in this as well.

"...If it means we continue business, then I'd be glad to allow Ms. Baresi the opportunity to examine my work." It was a lie. That was completely obvious to Octavia as she watched the young man speak. But that was working with the mob—everyone lied to get what they wanted. Maroni lied to continue spying on Crane, Crane lied to continue receiving the drugs, and Octavia… well, she hadn't lied yet, but she imagined that soon she'd start having to, though to whom she wasn't yet sure.

"Perfect." Maroni said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes, turning his gaze onto the young woman, "I'll have our contract adjusted and brought to you tomorrow morning." She simply gave him a vexed nod as they all stood from the table, an unofficial way of ending their meeting. As Crane began for the door, Maroni stopped him, "Oh, Dr. Crane," with an annoyed glinted in his eyes, Crane turned again, "why don't you show Octavia around now, huh? Now is as good a time as ever, am I correct?"

Octavia's eyes nearly widened at the statement. _Now?_ Of all ways to spend her day, this was the last Octavia would have ever wanted (and besides, she already had to put off her meeting with the prospective client, assuming it wouldn't be more than an hour or so at most; now she'd have to reschedule again).

Crane was equally as annoyed, the Scarecrow yelling in the back of his mind about how pathetic the entire situation was. But he sucked it up, and with a forced nod, turned his gaze back onto Octavia, "Of course, it'd be my _pleasure_."

Once more, Maroni was grinning at the obvious discomfort from both parties as they left the room, "Be sure to report back in the morning, Octavia."

The young woman grumbled to herself as she followed Crane out the door, eyes glaring daggers into the back of his head. Her anger wasn't actually directed at the doctor necessarily, it was more towards Maroni for his plan (and for the look of glee in his eyes at seeing her worked up like this); however, a part of her reserved the right to be upset with Crane for gassing her two nights prior.

The pair didn't speak as they walked through the building, being met by one of Crane's guards at the exit. The new man eyed Octavia curiously.

Noting his expression, Crane spoke up, "It's seems we'll be having a guest tag along with us this evening."

The man didn't question further as the trio approached Crane's white van, all maintaining a rather uncomfortable silence.

The drive to Crane's new hideout (and he _hated_ having to bring one of Maroni's people there willingly) was also silent, neither he nor Octavia having any desire to strike up a conversation. For his part, Crane remained calm and collected, maintaining the air that nothing phased him, whereas Octavia obviously looked as if she was wishing she was somewhere else.

"Not as bold as last time, I see." Crane finally broke the silence to give Octavia a smug look; if anything, he could at least continue asserting his dominance in the situation.

Octavia gave him a mocking expression as she met his eyes, "Well, you never called after our first date, and I didn't want to seem too clingy."

It was a response Crane wasn't expecting, causing him to sigh in exasperation.

 **This plan is shit, Johnny, ya know that?**

 _Of course I do. But we'll just play Maroni's game for a little while, use him until we don't need to anymore._

 **You better make that soon, 'cause I don't want to deal with this guy's crap any longer? ...'Cept her** — **bet I could stand looking at her for another week if she always shows up looking like that.**

Crane rolled his eyes, an action noticed by Octavia, though misinterpreted. She assumed it was frustration from having her around, and she realized then that she could have her fun—sure, she was no happier than Crane was about the situation, however, she could use her position to her advantage. She could turn up whenever she wanted, make his life a living hell with her presence, at least for a short while. And the childish, immature side of her smirked at the idea, though her professional side knew she probably wouldn't see that line of thought through.

When their vehicle had finally parked hidden alongside an old boathouse, Octavia nodded to herself, merely out of confirmation that the man had made the docks his temporary resting place. She was surprised, however, that it was in a boathouse and not one of the hundreds of warehouses neighboring it. It was a good tactic, though; if people were ever searching for him, they wouldn't suspect Crane to choose a boathouse of all places to lay low.

"Well, isn't this just a wildly romantic location for us to find ourselves in." Octavia jeered, and briefly Crane's cool expression faltered. He unlocked the door, choosing to ignore the young woman as she followed him closely.

Upon entering, Octavia looked over all the equipment lining the tables, completely unaware of what at least half of it was intended for. At that moment, she felt a fleeting admiration for the doctor's knowledge and skills, as she knew she could never handle equipment like this. But she told herself to shove that thought away for later, because right now she was still supposed to be bitter at Maroni and using that bitterness to get under Crane's skin.

Crane continued to ignore her, trying to look nonchalant as he eyed the room carefully—he wanted to make sure there was nothing out that would make it plainly obvious he was up to something here (though a part of him felt that the woman was smart enough to know he had been lying to Maroni earlier). But even if there was something out, he wondered how much she'd actually recognize.

As if on cue, Octavia tapped a piece of his chemistry equipment with a (surprisingly) well-manicured hand, "What's this one do, doc?" She gave him a taunting smirk as his blue eyes looked at her in irritation, refusing to answer her question, "Aw, come on, I failed chemistry twice in high school."

"That doesn't surprise me." The man jabbed, receiving a small glare.

The entire encounter, Crane's guard stood by the door, watching uncomfortably. The tension in the room was more than obvious to him, and a part of him wondered if he'd be missed at all if he stepped outside.

Deciding that they'd hardly notice, the man exited the front door without a word.

And Octavia was practically on top of Crane as soon as the door closed. It wasn't necessarily in a menacing manner, but her eyes were dark as she stared up at him, and immediately the Scarecrow became defensive.

"So, what's your play, Crane?" She asked, gaze boring into his.

The doctor quirked an eyebrow, looking on with a mock innocence, "If I had a play, why would I admit it to you in the first place?" He leaned over Octavia slightly, which would have probably looked more intimidating if she wasn't wearing those damn heels, "Anything I tell you will just be brought back to your boss."

Octavia scoffed, "Maroni's not my boss."

"Then why are you here?" Crane nearly grinned, "You have a contract and he's paying you, am I correct?"

"I'm my own boss, even if I did sign a contract."

"So, if you backed out now, _Miss Baresi_ ," the way he hissed her name only made her gaze sharper, "he wouldn't try to kill you? Because you're your own boss?"

"You don't know the first thing about the mob," she bit back, taking another step closer and she could practically feel his body heat at this point, "And don't assume you know the first thing about me, either. I don't trust Maroni anymore than you do."

"That's not saying very much, since nobody trusts Maroni." Crane stepped back, walking around Octavia coolly to piss her off a little more, "You attempted to attack me quite fiercely the other night for someone who doesn't work for Maroni."

The young woman glanced at the man over her shoulder, resorting back to her sardonic tone, "Guess I'm just a whole new person when that suit comes on."

"You're just as much of a burden either way."

With that the pair became silent, the only sound in the building becoming the lapping of river water against the rowboat and the space it occupied. Crane began looking over a notebook carelessly, and Octavia's eyes began to wander. She observed the man's science equipment again (still wondering what the hell it was all used for) before allowing her gaze to roam the boathouse. There was still remnants of its former use, paddles and a couple life vests and other miscellaneous items scattered around. A mini fridge and microwave were set into a corner, looking new and out of place among the rundown interior of the building. All the windows were covered with sheets, though they were still just thin enough to let the setting sunlight of the day filter in softly. To her far left was a ladder, and above her head was a loft, and Octavia was certain she saw the corner of a bed near the edge.

Finally, her eyes fell back onto Crane, who was still ignoring her. She watched as his eyes (which were now framed by glasses she was unaware he had) quickly skimmed the pages, jumping from word to word rapidly. His stance was somehow both casual and imposing, his back slightly turned to her. For a moment, Octavia felt calm—her frustration from earlier melting away after her opportunity just a minute ago to blow off some steam. Now, she was realizing that she didn't _have_ to treat Crane as some rival because he wasn't—he hadn't done anything to warrant any cruel behavior on her part (at least, he hadn't done anything to her personally). Sure, Maroni was paying her to spy on the man, but that didn't mean she herself had to necessarily care the way the mobster did, even if Crane was suspicious.

 _'But he did stick a fuckin' needle in my neck.'_ She recalled, glowering slightly at the haphazard memories of what the fear toxin did to her head.

Octavia abruptly turned for the door, her boots clunking against the wooden floors as she intended to exit. But just before reaching for the doorknob, she stopped to glance again at Crane. He still hadn't looked in her direction, acting as if he hadn't even noticed her attempt at a departure.

"I'll try not to be a thorn in your side," Octavia spoke up, waiting a few moments for a response, but received none, "Contrary to what you may think, I'm not your enemy… just doin' what I'm paid to do."

And with that final statement, she left, missing the moment when Crane cocked his head and raised an eyebrow at her departing form.

* * *

 **So, I've noticed that no matter how hard I try it always seems that my stories move pretty quickly. But maybe that's a good thing.**

 **But anyway, pleeease let me know what you thought of this chapter! It's pretty key to the direction of the story, and I want to ensure that I keep everything well written and everyone in character!**


	8. Seven: Fingendo

**So, I'm back with a new chapter! I'm really trying to get this story back off the ground because I miss writing it and I miss my characters. Hopefully I'll be able to get more written soon to share with everyone.**

 **Hope you all like this chapter!**

* * *

After their last encounter, Octavia chose to avoid Crane for nearly a week. Now that the assignment was changed to make her some kind of glorified babysitter, she lost all care and interest for it. Maroni expected her to be under his employment long term, checking in on the Scarecrow for as long as the two men did business together, and that _is not_ what she signed up for. She should've said 'no' from the beginning, but she just had to let her curiosity of the criminal get the better of her. She always knew working with Maroni turned into a long extended game on his part, and she let herself get pulled right into it.

The day after their meeting, Octavia had gotten into contact with her potential client and took the job. It was another easy one-angry ex-wife who needed some dirt on her ex-husband so that she could get the money from him that she assumed she deserved. Not the most exciting job, but nonetheless it was something to keep her busy, at least for a couple of days. She was trying to keep her mind distracted, wondering how long she could put off this damn babysitting job before Maroni would have to threaten her. She knew it wouldn't take long, though; that man had no sense of patience.

Of course, after finishing the "dirty marriage money" job (as she so fondly took to calling it) within a few days, her schedule had become too open once more. She filled it with time browsing bookstores and Wikipedia (she was always quite fond of trivia) and managed to visit with her mother a couple times, but that could become boring quickly as well.

It was one of those particularly boring days when she'd received a phone call from a friend that she hadn't seen in weeks, who was insisting that they meet for lunch. Octavia was more than eager to get out for a bit, and luckily it would be with good company as well.

Brea Ferrell was a kindred spirit in Octavia's eyes-the women both had a desire for the unique and bold, though Brea more so than her friend. The other woman was tall, verging on 5'10", with a bleach pixie cut that always seemed to be styled a little different every time they met again (and the sight of it always made Octavia desire having back the plum colored hair that she rocked from age nineteen to twenty-one). Brea was a stand-out, with a sleeve of tattoos running up one arm and a rather spunky attitude. If it hadn't been for the line of work Octavia went into, she imagined she may have looked a lot more like the younger woman than her parents would have liked.

Upon spotting each other across the coffee shop, both women's faces lit up and soon they were hugging tightly.

"It has been _too_ long." Brea said as they pulled apart.

"Between my fucked up schedule and yours, it's no surprise." Octavia replied as the two stood in line to order their drinks.

"You're telling me-I hardly have time to sleep, let alone have time to actually socialize."

After a few minutes, the two sat at a table in the corner of the cafe, chatting excitedly and trying to catch up on everything they'd missed in each other's lives.

"So, where's work brought you recently?" Brea asked as their meals were brought to them.

"I was over in California the last couple of weeks." Octavia lied smoothly. A part of her hated not sharing her real job with her friends, but she'd decided early on that it was safer if they didn't know. So, she'd told them all that she worked for some international sales company, which was the easiest way for her to excuse why, sometimes, she'd just be off the grid for lengths at a time.

Brea looked at her friend excitedly, "Ooh, I can't believe you! I bet the weather was perfect compared to all this rain."

Octavia grinned wickedly, "Those men at the beach were perfect, too." The pair shared a laugh.

"One of these days you'll have to bring me along. Next time they have you going to Hawai'i you better call me first thing."

"I promise." Octavia laughed again, "And what about you, huh? How's it been on the makeup scene?"

"Stressful when you're painting faces by day and mixing drinks by night." Brea replied with a sigh.

"Well aren't you just the everyday Batman." The women giggled as they dug into their meals.

Octavia relished in the normalcy of it all; it always seemed as if her life always revolved around putting on a disguise or doing someone's dirty work or worrying about the mob. At this point in her life, she got very few chances to be a normal young adult, what with the world she'd gotten herself wrapped up in. And recently, she _needed_ that sense of normalcy-she didn't want to constantly remember the Scarecrow's toxin or Crane's startling blue eyes. And this was just the kind of distraction she needed to remind herself that her life wasn't just darkness and aggression and work. And sure, her friends had no idea just how much was kept from them, but Octavia was certain that it was somehow better that way.

* * *

The day after she went out with Brea, Octavia had finally gotten herself a new motorcycle, much to her personal delight; it was a vintage inspired roadster, quite similar to her previous ride, though this bike had more power and a higher torque. Every day now she'd taken it out for a ride, just to relish in it's speed and power.

It was while out on one of these rides that Octavia found herself drifting toward the Upper Gotham docks and her mind instantly thought back to Crane. She was still under a contract, and she was in the area, so the least she could try to do was put some effort into her current job.

In the middle of the day, the docks were far less intimidating than many assumed them to be, particularly the Upper Gotham docks. If anyone wanted to see criminals and drugs and danger, they'd find it further south, along the Gotham Harbor rather than the river. The river side of the docks were "safer" as most would put it-they were closer to places like the hospital or the university, closer to well-maintained civilization. The harbor docks were even more rundown and dilapidated, practically screaming the images of some horror movies. The harbor docks were an obvious place for a criminal; the river docks, however, were a smarter place for a criminal. And Octavia knew just how smart Crane was.

As Octavia rode up to the boathouse, she didn't spot any sign of a guard-of course, it was midday, and suspicions would raise if a random man stood outside of an abandoned building. Briefly, she looked around herself, searching for the van, but also hadn't spotted it in it's usual hiding spot-it would seem that Crane was most likely alone.

Octavia went to park her motorcycle along the edge of a neighboring warehouse, hidden some behind a stack of old cardboard boxes. She jogged the small distance between the two buildings, halting in front of the door that she was almost certain was locked. For a brief instant, she tried to turn the handle, proving her suspicions correct.

"Crane!" She called out, though she tried not to let her voice become too loud. For a few long moments there was nothing; no sound of footsteps approaching the door, no turning of locks. She tried once more, but got the same response. Nothing. Octavia sighed, digging into one of her pockets and pulling out a couple of lock pick tools, kneeling before the door and working at the three separate locks (it looked as if Crane was taking every precaution he could). In about a minute, she was opening the door, eyes falling on the doctor who turned around at the sound of the door with a vexed expression on his face.

An angered look was bright in his eyes as he stared at the almost smug young woman, "If someone doesn't answer, Ms. Baresi, it's customary _not_ to just let yourself in."

He had been ignoring her, she knew, hoping that she'd just go away if he didn't acknowledge her. But it would seem Octavia didn't take so kindly to being disregarded.

"And if a guest is at your door, _Dr. Crane_ , it is customary to let them in." She responded in a similarly cold tone. For a brief moment, the two stared darkly at one another.

"It's been nearly a week, I assumed you weren't planning to return." Crane turned back to the equipment he had set out on the table.

"Well, I was beginning to miss ya, and I just so happened to be in the neighborhood." She took a few steps to stand near the doctor, trying to take a peek at his work, "And things just get so boring without Maroni breathing down my neck or you stabbing a needle into me…"

Crane glanced at her from the corner of his eye, readjusting his glasses, "Rest assured, I'd _love_ to be piercing more needles to your skin, but I need to keep you in tact."

Octavia glared, hand noisily landing on the table, " _In tact_?" Crane simply looked on in both amusement and vexation, "Crane…" she took a few moments to relax, "look, Maroni and I both know you're up to something, the difference is that he wants you dead, and I don't give a _fuck_ what you do, so long as it doesn't involve me. So, if keeping me 'in tact' is somehow a part of whatever stunt you're trying to pull-"

"I'm up to something, hm? And yet, I'm still alive." Crane continued to try to remain collected, "If Maroni really wanted me dead, it would already be done, don't you think?" Now, he had completely turned to face Octavia, standing slowly, "There's a reason he hasn't attempted to get rid of me yet, Ms. Baresi-he's waiting, though for what I can't be sure. Maybe he wants to watch you suffer my presence, maybe he wants to catch me make a mistake. Whatever the case, you're not worth using my toxin on."

Octavia stared at him for a beat, "I'm not worth it? Is that meant to insult me?"

"Perhaps." Crane turned back to his notes, as if trying to end the discussion, "You're nearly safer to be around normally then you are under the toxin's influence."

Now, the young woman quirked an eyebrow, eyes falling to his cheek where a bruise had formed last week (though it had entirely disappeared now), "What was I like, then, with the toxin in my system?"

" _Annoying_." The Scarecrow responded without missing a beat, and Octavia could almost feel the newfound darkness in his tone, but she continued to egg him on.

"The bruise on your face was me, wasn't it?" She wanted to smirk, "Even under your influence I still had too much power for you to control, is that what the problem was?"

Crane glared at her expression, "The way I remember it, you were the one that ended up in a dirty alley."

Octavia rolled her eyes then allowed a certain calmness to wash over her-she _wasn't_ going to let this man get under her skin. So, she turned, sitting on the ledge of the boathouse floor, propping one foot against the abandoned rowboat and letting the other dangle above the water lapping in. She watched it for a brief moment.

"This fight for dominance thing we have going on," she looked back over her shoulder, "is getting tiresome real quick."

"And yet you keep up with the fight; why is that?" Crane was scribbling in his notes, keeping up the careless charade.

"You gonna psychoanalyse me, doc?" Octavia asked almost provokingly, as if she wanted the man to dare try it.

"What makes you think I haven't been doing so since the start?"

"I didn't doubt it." She replied without missing a beat before falling silent for a few moments.

 **She hasn't even tried to examine the drugs.**

 _So I noticed…_

 **It's like she doesn't care what we're up to, Johnny; everything's practically out in plain fuckin' sight!**

 _And that's because she doesn't care._

When Octavia had arrived, Crane kept a close eye on her, ready to pounce if she messed with something. But he quickly noticed that she paid virtually no attention to his equipment or Maroni's drugs, or much of anything aside from him. He realized, then, that she had no intention of putting forward effort. It was risky, seeing as she was working for the biggest organized crime boss in the city, but she intended to get away with it.

 _She only tried before because the job was_ interesting- _-she got to use her skills to their potential. Now, she's forced to come by as if for social visits. She hates it._

 **Then let's doing something about it, Johnny. End this bullshit with Maroni or do something with the girl. Not like we need either of 'em, anyway.**

 _Just a little more money for our experiments, then they'll be out of our hair._

 **You better make it quick, I'm getting bored without test subjects, and I might just start using that girl if I have to.**

 _If it comes to that point, I won't stop you._

Crane looked back over his shoulder toward Octavia, whom he caught completely staring at him. Unlike most people, however, who would almost gasp in surprise before frantically turning away, she maintained eye contact with a raised eyebrow and an almost daring expression. His eyes narrowed slightly before he looked away again.

"If you just intend to sit there and stare, Ms. Baresi, I suggest you leave." Crane set down whatever he was working on and removed his glasses. Octavia watched him for another few seconds before speaking.

"Why are ya even working with Maroni? You and I both know you don't need him." She asked him seriously. Crane wasn't looking at her, but she knew he had been listening.

"The same reason as you." He initially hesitated to answer, but replied after a few moments. Octavia raised her brow as he took a second away from his work to look in her direction, "Money, Ms. Baresi."

She very nearly laughed at the simplicity of it all, realizing how easily she could have come to that answer. She knew he continued to make his toxin, continued to use it and (potentially) mix them with Maroni's drugs, continued to do his experiments-of course the products didn't come free, not even to a man like him.

"I imagine you don't need him either," Crane started, multitasking as he spoke and worked, "As you've stated, you don't work for anybody but yourself, correct? You're some kind of private investigator, so obviously you have more than enough clientele. So why not just feed him some lie and be done with me? You'd still get your money that way."

At that question, Octavia was silent, thinking of an answer to give him. He made a good point, that she could just lie and not deal with the damn job anymore. But Maroni would probably suspect something, at least this early on. If she ever considered lying to the man, she'd have to wait to try it.

"It's too risky."She replied simply, "He'd know I was up to something, and then we'd both be fucked. So, for a little while, we get to enjoy each other's company."

Crane stopped to look at the woman with an almost mocking expression, "You must not have very exciting friends if you find my company enjoyable."

Octavia grinned, "Maybe that's true." She stood again, walking toward Crane casually before leaning up against the table to face him, "Or maybe I just enjoy getting under your skin."

Crane huffed, almost a jeering laugh, though Octavia wondered if the man even could laugh,"Or maybe you're just lonely."

Octavia faltered, though she tried to mask it with a nonchalant shrugged, "And what if I am? What does it say about me, doc, seeking out your company in my loneliness?"

"You find something about me interesting, Ms. Baresi; I'm something to keep your mind from getting bored." He responded as he kept his gaze focused on his work, "That's why you really went to the apartment, correct? Going to my private space had nothing to do with your job, we both know that-I'm fascinating to you, and you just can't help but want to know more. And that's why you're actually here now; not for Maroni, but for yourself."

After a moment of thought (and slight surprise at how easily Crane could read her), Octavia simply nodded in agreement, "Well, ya caught me red handed…" She couldn't think of anything more intelligent to say, much to her dismay.

"Now, with that out of the way," Crane returned his gaze to the woman, who was now eying his work station curiously, "I have another question of you."

"Sounds like you may be just as fascinated by me, Dr. Crane," Octavia's newly amused gaze trailed back toward the man briefly.

"How loyal are you to Mr. Maroni?" At the question, the brunette's brows furrowed suspiciously, "We've already established that he's not in charge of you, however, he seems to have more control than you let on."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"If your parents are as fiercely loyal as they appear, then perhaps you are as well?"

Octavia glared suddenly at the man, taking a step closer, "The fuck you know about my parents?"

Crane attempted to feign insouciant, though the woman could see a glimmer of amusement in his bright eyes,"More than you want me to, I'd bet." Octavia was nearly prepared to begin yelling at him, but the man continued, "You did your research on me, it's only fair I do mine on you.

"That's not the point, though-how loyal are you to Maroni?" He repeated his earlier question.

"I'm not." Octavia replied without a thought, though as soon as she said it she began to wonder how true that was. Of course, instinct told her she wasn't loyal to anyone, however, family history made her think otherwise. The mobster had done a lot for her family, didn't that command some kind of loyalty? But then again, he was a mob boss of Gotham, and men like that could never be trusted.

Crane could see the internal conflict in the woman's green eyes, though she tried to keep her gaze away from his, "You don't look so sure of that."

"Loyalty will make ya weak." Octavia insisted as Crane focused once more on his work.

"You can tell yourself that all you want, but I can see otherwise." The woman's gaze was harsh as she stared at the doctor, "Now, how about you come back to babysit when you finally have your personal ties all sorted out."

With that, Octavia could tell Crane wanted to be left alone. Once more, the immature side of her insisted that she stay and pester him, but she knew better than to do that. And after their last bit of conversation, she wasn't sure that she wanted to stay anyway.

So, she turned for the door, stealing a final, hard glance at the man before exiting.

* * *

 **So, I know the start of this chapter was a bit of a filler, but I feel like its necessary to build up Octavia's world a little more. But I love the rest of the chapter, I love writing these two together and I hope you all enjoy it too!**

 **Leave some reviews, I love hearing everyone's thoughts!**


	9. Eight: Cuori in Guerra

**I've finally gotten myself back on track with where I want this story to go, so in celebration of that I'm finally posting chapter eight! Hope you all enjoy!  
**

* * *

It had been another week and Octavia still hadn't returned to Crane's hideout. After his questioning about her loyalty, she couldn't help but take some time to look closely at herself. Of course, she was certain that's what Crane was trying to doーhe wanted to get under her skin, to get her to stop focusing on him for at least a short while so that he could get things done. And damn it, it had worked.

Octavia realized that maybe she did have some of a loyalty to Maroniーshe grew up knowing the man, both personally and professionally. She couldn't help that she had developed a sense of loyalty through her parents; it was only understandable.

However, she didn't trust the man. Not one bit. And that's what made Octavia's loyalty falterーif someone can't be trusted, then at the end of the day the relationship is not strong. Octavia was almost relieved to come to this realization. It wasn't her own loyalty that kept her there, it was the loyalty of her parents that seemed to extend to her.

If Octavia could, she would have easily gone longer without going to see Crane (two weeks, maybe even a month?), but Maroni had other plans. She received a phone call from him one day, demanding to know what she'd been up to, seeing as he hadn't gotten a single piece of information from her since their meeting. Begrudgingly, Octavia gave in, knowing that she had to keep the mobster off of her back for a little while longer.

And so, she was once more approaching Crane's river side hideout. As she walked up, Octavia noted the white van hidden alongside a nearby warehouse, almost sighing as she knew Crane's guards would be present; the man himself was already difficult enough, and having his men there was only more of an annoyance. Octavia spotted one man stood alongside the boathouse, hidden just enough so any passerby wouldn't take notice of him. When she was close enough the man spotted her, stepping out with a menacing expression on his face.

Octavia rolled her eyes, "I have a meeting with your boss, don't get worked up."

"He never mentioned a meeting." The man didn't budge, and Octavia quickly reached for the gun hidden in her jacket with a threatening glint in her gaze.

"Don't be difficult." The man pulled out his own gun and the two stared each other down for a few long moments, "Look, just go get him so I don't have to shoot you."

"And what if I shoot first, sweetheart?" Once more, Octavia sighed and her glower deepened at the gross nickname. With a roll of her eyes, she aimed the gun below his feet and pulled the trigger without a second thought. The man jumped back in surprise before glaring again and turning his gun to her once more, "Fucking bitch!" he shouted out, but before he could act further a voice came from behind him.

"Barton!" As expected, Crane heard the gunshot, and was now stood in the doorway of the boathouse. He was glaring as his gaze moved from his guard to the young woman, and the scolding look on his face was almost reminiscent of an angered parent's; and yet somehow it seemed as if he was nearly amused by Octavia, "If you attempt to kill my men you'll only draw unwanted attention."

Octavia shrugged, returning her gun back to its holster, "Not all unwanted attentionーI got yours too, didn't I?"

With that, she simply walked past the guard that continued to glare daggers into her skull, giving him a condescending smirk. Crane stepped aside to allow her entrance, eyes studying her with intrigue before closing the door once more.

Inside the boathouse, another guard was stood by the riverside entrance, eyes following Octavia like a hawk. She looked back at him with a glare before letting her eyes wander the room, spotting a variety of tools and equipment scattered about, and there was also a sheet haphazardly covering one of the tables along the wall (' _must of just thrown it on now,_ ' she thought briefly, knowing it had to be hiding something suspicious).

"No privacy this time?" Octavia asked with mockingly innocent eyes as she gazed at Crane, "I'm hurt."

Crane's gaze moved from the woman to his guard, saying, "Step outside," without a thought. It surprised Octavia, to say the leastーshe didn't _actually_ expect Crane to want to be alone with her like he always seemed to be.

The thug looked at his boss quizzically, stealing a glance back at Octavia while wondering what could be going on between the two. But he took the orders, quickly walking out of the buildingーhe knew it was pointless arguing with Crane.

Octavia eyed Crane suspiciously as he slowly walked about the room before finally leaning up against one of the tables. He removed his glassesーwhich, Octavia noticed, he only seemed to wear when he didn't have to be intimidatingーand crossed his arms, eyes meeting hers sharply.

"So, you've come back."

Octavia couldn't help herself as she scoffed, "Nah, I'm a fuckin' figment of your imagination."

Crane glowered at the woman's slight smirk, "How charming…" he muttered under his breath, gazing away briefly as he thought, "Why?"

"Well, I am your babysitter."

" _No_ ," Crane's eyes were austere as he stared at her, "You remember our last conversation… I told you to come back when you sorted out your relationship with Maroni."

"And I _did_." Octavia replied cockily, taking a few steps closer. Crane nearly grinned as he noticed that today she wasn't wearing heels; still, they were boots with a slight lift to them, but not very much. But, of course, he thought it stupid that he'd notice or care about something so insignificant.

"And what's the verdict?" He stayed put as Octavia finally stopped to rest against the table with him, the closest the two had been since their fist fight a couple weeks back. She had one hip leaned up against the wooden desk, and one leg crossing the other at the ankle as her jade eyes never ventured from his gaze.

"A part of me can't help but respect himーour families have history, ya know… But respect and loyalty aren't the same thing. It may make my parents cry, but I could never be loyal to Maroni the way they are, not even remotely." Octavia almost grinned.

"Good." Crane replied simply, a smirk teasing at his lips.

 **You've got something planned, don't you, Johnny?**

"So, if someone theoretically asked you to work against the man at any point, you would?"

* * *

Crane decided after his last discussion with Octavia that he'd pose his question to her. After asking her about her loyalties. Initially, it had been a way for him to get into her head, to distract her with her own thoughts so that maybe she'd leave him alone for a while. Luckily, she took the bait, and Crane had had a full week without any contact from anyone connected to Maroni. It was refreshing to say the leastーwhen he first started doing drug deals, he never expected Maroni to play such a damn big part in his work. It was becoming increasingly irritating, especially once Octavia came into the picture. She was more than eager to get under his skinーto get under anyone's skin, as it would seemーand that was something Crane was not used to dealing with.

During their discussion a week ago, Crane ventured to guess that Octavia found him interesting (though it wasn't necessarily a guess, since the signs were already there). Her confirmation of such was all he needed to continue building a useful profile on herーshe may have been a complex person, but that didn't inherently mean Crane found it complicated to analyze her:

She worked for hire, which meant she liked being in control of her work.

She was _very_ obvious when she disliked something (Maroni, primarily, as of recent).

She made it clear that she found Jonathan interesting to investigate.

She had grown up around the mob, so she had a very grey moral code.

Of course, there were so many more that he had noted, but these points were of most importance to him.

At first, it hadn't even crossed Crane's mind to use the woman to his advantage. All he wanted was to get her out of his hair. But when he had asked her about her loyalties, the idea had suddenly began to formulate in his mind. He was annoyed by Maroni's suspicions and behavior, and using the mobster's ideas against him was the perfect way to maintain the upper hand.

When he realized that he could use Octavia, Crane began thinking through the possibilities of having her (even just temporarily) on his side. Of course, he couldn't trust her, not with her history and connections. However, if he could determine that her ties to Maroni weren't as strong as the mobster assumed, Crane could move forward with a new plan.

It was risky to attempt to hire her from under Maroni's nose, he was well aware of that. But a part of Crane couldn't seem to help but try, much to his surprise. Just as she was fascinated by him, he was fascinated by herーafter witnessing her under his toxin's influence and doing his own research on her (which proved to be difficult, as she was very careful about her information getting to the public reach), he couldn't help but find the woman interesting to some degree.

So maybe it was his intrigue that inspired him to propose his idea to her. Or maybe it was his confidence that he'd get his way. Regardless, it appeared as if everything could potentially be going according to his new plan.

* * *

"So, if someone theoretically asked you to work against the man at any point, you would?" Octavia's brow raised curiously as she leaned toward the man slightly.

"You happen to know someone dumb enough to ask me to do something that?"

"Or perhaps someone smart enough," Crane started, "You disdain this situation just as much as I do, so why not change it?"

Octavia's eyes lit up in realization and surprise, "Are you saying you wanna hire me to lead Maroni off your trail?"

Now, Crane was almost eagerly smirking at her, "You seem like the type that enjoys getting under his skin, and you did appear rather worked up about the change in your job assignment; you don't let yourself get attached to jobs or clients, and that's something I could use."

Octavia looked away from Crane, thinking briefly over the new job possibilityーthe man she had been spying on just a few weeks prior was now trying to enlist her help so suddenly? It seemed suspicious, especially from the likes of the Scarecrow, but it was something for her to consider. However, now that he's already told her the idea, she assumed she couldn't exactly back out, at least not easily.

"You seem to trust me a little too much if you're asking me to work against the man that's hired me."

"It's not trust," Crane responded quickly, "I can read you, Ms. Baresi, sometimes too wellーas long as the job excites you, I imagine you'd do just about anything. In fact, I know you _have_ done just about anything, am I correct?" It looked as the man's grin darkened, causing Octavia to briefly wonder just how much about her the man knew, "Acting as a double agent, so to speak, is a job that would utilize your skill set. And it's far more interesting than this pathetic assignment you have now. You won't be able to help yourself."

"... Point made." She replied simply, still watching Crane with a curiosity, "So,you just knew that I'd happily betray Maroni given the right opportunity?"

"It's not necessarily a betrayal. You just work for whomever is the highest bidder. Besides, you have a bit of a resentment towards him, that much is obvious."

Octavia's eyes glanced over the boathouse once more, skimming across its details as she let the idea sink inーsure, Maroni was paying her a hefty sum, but she could get away with a few well placed lies and he wouldn't notice. If she played her cards right (and she was confident that she would), she could be getting both the pay from Maroni and the pay from Crane.

That thought, however, made her halt.

"What's the pay?" She asked bluntly, meeting the man's intense gaze once more.

 **Yeah, how the fuck do you expect to pay her?**

"I can't promise much…" Crane started, having already had the thought cross his mind, "However, once I've completed my own work with Maroni, I can get you a more considerable amount."

"So, more of Maroni's money?"

"Does the thought bother you?"

"Not at all." Octavia grinned, "If I get to fuck with the guy _and_ get his money, I'm more than interested in the job. We gotta discuss details before I agree to anything, though; I want a contract with everything laid out and no loopholes on your part."

Crane could see a level of professionalism in the woman's stern gaze, one he knew was there but hadn't gotten to see until now. She'd been doing this for years, after all, so she had to be well experienced with negotiations and confrontations.

"None of my men have contracts."

Octavia's eyes narrowed, "I'm not just one of your pathetic bodyguards." She stood on her toes, leaning toward the man's face, "I'm not just someone you can pick off the street and control with money."

"Oh really?" Crane scoffed, his tone almost challenging.

"No one controls me, Dr. Crane, not even you." Octavia grinned wickedly, and somewhere in the back of Crane's mind he could feel a new kind of intrigue growing.

 **This one'll be more exciting than we first thought, Johnny. _Much_ more exciting…**

* * *

Once Octavia left the boathouse, claiming she was going to go work on a contract, Crane was glad to be left alone. He was more than eager to begin working on a new batch of toxin, though the Scarecrow had other ideas in mind.

 **Mind explaining where the fuck that idea came from?**

 _What, you don't know?_

 **Contrary to what you think, Johnny, I'm not always focusing on you.**

Jonathan nearly chuckled as he took a break to explain his idea to his counterpart.

"You remember the last time she was here, correct?" Once the Scarecrow confirmed, Crane began his explanation, "Maroni knows something's going on, the man's not an idiot. But he thinks he can control me, control my work and whom I work withーhe thinks he can just send some spy he hired to check up on me whenever he sees it fit. I'm attempting to turn his own spy against him, and from the look of it, I think I have."

 **Is this a part of some grand fucking scheme that I'm not aware of?**

Crane shook his head as he went back to his work, "I want Maroni off my back, and I want him to know that I was always the one in control of our business together. When I'm done with him, I want him to realize that the entire time I actually had him in my hands. Using Ms. Baresi will be the final nail in the coffin once he realizes that he was being played by both me _and_ someone else he thought he could control."

 **And what then, huh? If she just works for the highest bidder, whose to say she won't be working some triple agent strategy against you?**

"That's too complicated, even for her taste." Crane responded phlegmatically, "She'll work with us, and when the business is done she'll move on, just as we will."

The Scarecrow was doubtful. Jonathan had such confidence in the simplicity of his plan, and, though usually, the Scarecrow shared his confidence, the alter ego knew that, ultimately, Octavia Baresi was a wild card. Jonathan, too, was aware of this, but it seemed that he was ignoring just how much of one she was, thinking that he could manipulate her.

 **When things don't go according to your little plan, don't be surprised when I say 'I told you so…'**

* * *

As Octavia was riding toward Maroni's nightclub, she was already beginning to question herselfーdid she actually just agree to working with the Scarecrow? Of course, she was surprised that he even asked her, but she was more surprised that she had agreed. Obviously, nothing was set in stone until they signed their contract, but Octavia knew that she couldn't just change her mindーwho knows what Crane would do if she tried to back out.

A part of her felt as if she agreed because of her fascination with the criminal. If she didn't find Crane to be such a damn interesting subject, she imagined he never would have even brought up the job. But he knew all too well that she'd take itーall of her personality traits made it obvious that she'd take the assignment.

As Octavia rode into the Diamond District, getting increasingly closer to a meeting she was dreading, she let her mind wander to what this new job may entail; her primary focus was to give Maroni false information, to lead him to believe that the Scarecrow isn't acting suspiciously. But what else would she potentially be asked to do? And how much was she willing to do for the job? There was a lot of grey area and blurred lines in this new job, and normally Octavia wouldn't have taken on something that wasn't well defined. And yet, she eagerly agreed, because she was weak for money and for excitement and for the Scarecrow.

Okay, so weak for the Scarecrow wasn't the best way for her to put it. She was simply fascinated, as she had said a number of times before.

Normally, she wouldn't have taken on a job with such a little pay promised (Octavia would be the first to admit that she was a little shallow to let money be such a large factor in her life), but something about Crane managed to catch her attention a little too much. Or maybe it was the way he had proposed his idea, as if Maroni was their common enemy, which wasn't necessarily true or false, really. Though Octavia tried to be headstrong, right now she felt as if she was letting herself be swayed too easily.

She honestly wondered if she should actually take Crane up on his offer. Of course, he wouldn't respond well if she didn't agree to the job, and would probably consider finding a way to get rid of her. If she said 'no,' then he would obviously expect her to leak any information to Maroni that she had already found (And she practically had proof that Crane was up to something).

Octavia knew she shouldn't take the jobーeven if Maroni was the farthest thing from being her favorite person, if her family found out what was going on, they'd be livid.

But again, she felt herself wanting to take on the job, much to her own surprise, though she couldn't completely understand why.

Before she came to a definite decision, Octavia wanted to talk to Crane one more timeーshe wanted a rundown of what was expected, and she hoped the conversation would aid her to figure out her own internal dilemma.

Finally, she was parking in the lot across from Maroni's club, and soon she was being led to his familiar office. Upon entering, she took a seat across from the mobster without giving him a greeting.

"I'm gettin' nothing, Maroni." She started, resting her elbows on her knees.

"What do ya mean 'nothing?'" The man questioned in a tone of irritation.

"If Crane's up to something, he's careful about hiding it. And even still, I can't tell what the fuck he's doing even when I'm there." Though Octavia had her suspicious that the Scarecrow was messing with Maroni's drugs (and others' drugs, she'd venture to guess), she had no substantial proof. And after the meeting she just had with Crane, her head was a mess of thoughts.

"The fuck are you doing when you're there, just sittin' around?" Maroni glowered, "You should be lookin' through everything, all of his notes and work; every damn box and folder and anything with information. You're slackin', Baresi."

Octavia rolled her eyes, "You gave me a shit job."

The mobster gave her a condescending look, "But you're the one that's stuck with it, so _get it done_. I don't want this to drag out longer than necessary, and you coming back to me with _nothing_ isn't doing you any favors. If you don't have something for me next time-"

"Don't start threatening me or my family or any of that crap you usually pull."

Maroni smirked, "I know threats don't phase you. However, if you don't have something, you're gonna start lookin' rather suspicious, kid."

Octavia scoffed, "What, you think I'm gonna start workin' with that guy?" She nearly laughed at the coincidental direction their conversation took, "Maroni, relax; I'll figure this out."

And that last statement felt like her own personal confirmation of what she was going to do about Crane's offer.

* * *

 **I've been pretty excited to share this chapter with everyone, so I hope you all enjoyed! I will forewarn you, the next chapter or two are going to be moving quickly and (potentially) a little messily. Once I post the next chapter, I will explain that in more detail. But for now, I'd love to hear back what everyone's thoughts are on this chapter and the story! Looking forward to hearing from everyone!**


	10. Nine: Perdere stasera

**hat, another chapter so soon? Funny that this chapter somehow turned out to be my longest so far even though it was the one I most struggled with.**

 **On that topic, I'll mention that this chapter and the next may feel a little fast and choppy, but that's because this is a point where I was dealing with the most ridiculous writer's block in the world! I was literally stuck on this chapter for months until recently I finally worked out how to continue the story. So, the direction is changing a little, but it's for the best, trust me!  
**

* * *

As Octavia stepped off her motorcycle the next morning, one of Crane's guards immediately took note of her, stepping forward defensively. She let out a large sigh at the sight of him, rolling her eyes as she perched a hand on her hip.

"Are we gonna have a repeat of yesterday?" She questioned boredly. The man glared a little, "Look, you'll be seeing more of me, so let's not keep up this tough guy bullshit."

"If you weren't such a bitch…" the man started angrily, and Octavia mockingly quirked an eyebrow.

"Well, I am a bitch you'll be seeing a lot of," she retorted, and the man grumbled as he continued to glare and unlock the door for her to enter. Octavia brushed past the man as if he wasn't even there, grinning slightly at his obvious frustration.

Inside, Crane was overseeing his other men packing up various drugs—the following evening, he'd be meeting once more with the Chechen for an exchange, which was a part of why she was here. Maroni requested she stop in, thinking now would be the best time to catch anything suspicious.

At hearing her enter, Crane looked up nonchalantly, "No gun shots this time, I see."

"I do hate to repeat the same trick twice," Octavia replied with a grin, "Besides, he's not worth the energy."

Crane's other goons eyed the woman harshly, none aware of the change in dynamic between she and their boss. And even if they were aware, they probably still wouldn't have thought too highly of her—she already seemed like the type that would piss them off just for the hell of it.

Octavia walked around the busy room to drop a manila folder atop the table nearest Crane. He gazed over at it with a raised brow.

"Contract." the woman said simply, "Not doing anything until it's signed."

Crane nearly smiled at her efficiency as he picked up the folder to begin reading its contents. As he did so, Octavia moved for one of the boxes filled with drugs. She peered into it curiously, reaching forward to lift one of the bags.

"Ah…" Crane's voice halted her, and Octavia looked over to find he held up a finger toward her, a strict look across his face as he eyed her, "Until I sign, you're not touching anything, either."

Octavia glowered, almost pouting slightly as she looked back at the drugs for a brief moment. The other men in the room looked on in amusement as she took a seat on the barstool next to Crane, crossing her arms as she eyed the doctor. After a moment, her eyes continued to look across the crates, curiosity taking her once more.

"We need to give Maroni a false trail." She spoke up, her eyes having settled on the box nearest her, "He knows I haven't been doing shit, and the best way to convince him you're not up to anything is to give him a couple leads to investigate and then tell him it's all false."

Jonathan spared her a slight glance before he turned the page of the contract, "And what do you propose we tell him?"

"I'll wait." the woman responded as she eyed the manila folder cheekily. Crane simply continued to read, choosing not to give her the satisfaction of seeing a reaction. For another minute or so, the Doctor read everything over, so far not finding anything worth changing. When he finally came to the end, he grabbed a pen from somewhere atop the table and held it out toward Octavia. She quirked an eyebrow and shook her head, "You first."

Finally, the two had signed the paperwork, making the job completely official. The two continued to watch Crane's men work for a few long moments before he spoke up, "Now, back to your plan, Ms. Baresi…" His tone was incredibly casual, almost careless. He briefly stole a glance at her to raise an eyebrow.

Octavia took another few moments of silence as she fleshed out a few ideas in her head, "We'll give him a suspicious trail. Tomorrow night, send one of your guys off in the opposite direction, give him some regular shit. I'll tell him you made it sound as if there was something different about those drugs, something suspicious that you wanna keep hush-hush. Maroni'll send someone after him only to find everything is perfectly normal."

Crane nodded in approval, "But then I'll be down one man, and that could look like a weakness to the Chechen."

"I'll be there," Octavia replied with a sudden idea, "Hiding, of course, but in case it looks like something is gonna go wrong, I'll be your backup."

"Make it happen." Was the only response she got before Crane decided to turn to his work instead, leaving her to continue brainstorming the new plan.

* * *

After creating and explaining a plan to Crane and his men, Octavia returned home for the evening. As she unlocked her front door, she began dialing Sal Maroni's number, getting into character as the phone rang softly in her ear.

 _"Baresi."_ His tone was all business as Octavia walked into her kitchen.

"Sally, do I have something for you." She spoke confidently.

 _"Well, it's about freakin' time."_ The mobster replied expectantly, choosing to ignore the annoying nickname that the woman just loved using, _"What is it, Baresi?"_

"Now, I can't guarantee anything, but I overheard Crane talking to one of his guys after they thought I left—sounds like one of 'em is supposed to go on a side job tomorrow night. He's supposed to be delivering something, sounded like it had to do with the drugs."

 _"You gotta give me more than that, kid."_ Maroni replied, _"Is it some of our product they tampered with or are you just makin' a wild guess?"_

"I think it's somethin'," Octavia continued as she went about reheating food for her dinner, "I heard your name in there—somethin' about your supply and not being found out, but I couldn't catch everything he said. If this is a potential lead I think you should follow it."

 _"And where is this guy headed with my supply?"_

"I'll get a tracker on him that night, that way some of your guys can follow him."

 _"Why can't you follow him for us? Isn't_ that _something I hired you for?"_ Octavia wanted to groan at Maroni's questions.

"Crane doesn't trust me…" She started as she thought on the spot, "He said he wants to see me at the next drug trade, says if I'm not there it'll look pretty suspicious. Sounds like he's just trying to assert some power over ya."

 _"It sure does…"_ Maroni thought for a few long moments, _"You'll still follow the guy, we don't want Crane assuming he holds all the cards. You follow his guy and bring him back to me, got it?"_

Octavia rolled her eyes, "Yup, got it."

 _"Good."_

And with that, Maroni hung up the phone, Octavia grumbling about it before she began to work out the new details of the plan.

* * *

"You got it, right?" Octavia asked, looking at Crane's goon stood across from her, "You know exactly what we're doing and what you're supposed to say?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." He replied in annoyance—the man did not take well to being talked to by this woman that was supposedly working for both Crane and Maroni. He refused to trust her and could only wonder why Crane would, even if only slightly. Working as a double agent, of sorts, seemed too complex—you simply pick one side or the other, it was as simple as that.

"If you mess this up, it's both of our heads." Octavia stood, taking a quick glance around the empty boathouse—Crane and the others had left about an hour ago, meaning it was nearly showtime for Octavia and the man left behind, "I know you're hating this next part—"

"I still don't get why you gotta give me a black eye." The man interrupted in irritation.

"Maroni needs to believe I took down a guy that's bigger than me and knocked him unconscious."

"It's still stup—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Octavia's fist collided roughly with his skull, causing the man to shout out and stumble back in shock.

"See, it's already over."

"Fucking bitch!" The man pressed a hand over his now injured eye, grinding his teeth.

Octavia began walking for the door without a care, "As if I haven't heard that a million times before."

The man looked on in a mix of anger and shock, unable to move from his spot for a few long moments. Octavia glanced back over her shoulder when she couldn't hear him following behind her, "You can cry about it on the way there, but right now I need to cuff you and get you in the van."

The man stood a few moments longer before grunting and following behind Octavia, wishing he could strangle the young woman bossing him around.

* * *

Octavia moved with confident steps through Maroni's club, escorted closely by one of the man's guards—it was showtime, and she had to make sure both she and Crane's goon sold the act. Her said partner-in-crime was tied up in the back of a van alongside Octavia's motorcycle and boxes filled with drugs (and the young woman was nearly certain that he was plotting up ways to kill her for all the frustration she put him through).

Upon entering Maroni's office, Octavia put on an almost cocky expression, taking strong strides toward the mobster who watched her in almost disinterest.

"You got somethin' for me, kid?" His tone was a little doubtful, based on the fact that recently Octavia hadn't been at the peak of her game. Maroni was beginning to doubt her, beginning to think that maybe she wasn't as smart or as capable as he had been lead to believe. Now, he was hopeful that she'd prove herself again.

"I got ya drugs and I got ya guy." She replied, leaning against the chair across from his desk, "These idiots Crane hires made the job almost too easy."

"Let's hope…" Maroni muttered as he stood to his towering height, "Where is he?"

Octavia waved her hand, almost as if to say 'follow me,' "Got him outside."

The pair, accompanied by two guards, began the walk to the parking lot in silence. So far, so good, Octavia thought—but of course, she knew she could sell the lies. She wasn't sure, however, how well the other guy would do. But Crane picked him to work with her for a reason, Octavia just hoped it was the right one.

Finally, the group was outside the van, and the guards threw open the back doors. Crane's man startled in surprise, looking up at the group with wide eyes before sending a glare in Octavia's direction (one that was one-hundred percent real and not for show, and the young woman knew that it was going to definitely help prove her story). Behind the chunk of fabric stuffed and tied around his mouth, one could hear the goons muffled protests and insults, probably all being thrown at the woman—he was pissed at her for the idea, for punching him in the fucking eye, for letting Crane choose him to walk into his potential death. It was almost as if Salvatore fucking Maroni wasn't stood right in front of him, because he was still so pissed off at Octavia.

"Get 'im outta there." Maroni said simply, and Crane's man was quite roughly dragged out of the back of the van, "Good job, Baresi, but don't think you're off the hook yet."

Octavia looked up questioningly, "What?"

"We still gotta get someone in here to inspect this lot," Maroni indicated toward the drugs in the back of the van, "If it's not what you say it is, we might have some trouble."

The young woman nodded in understanding, "And if it is?"

"Then you're in the clear." He said simply before turning back toward his club, "Now get outta here, we'll talk later."

* * *

It was the following afternoon when Octavia received a call from one of Maroni's most trusted men, and the man sounded nearly amused as he instructed her to get her ass to Maroni's immediately. She knew exactly why he was amused—he knew she was going to be in deep shit, because the drugs weren't what she claimed. She already knew how this plan would pan out, but that didn't mean she wasn't a little nervous to deal with Maroni. The man could be unpredictable at times, so what she did was an incredibly risky move to pull on him.

But now she had to go and face the music.

Octavia entered Maroni's office with a small glare in her eyes, already prepared for the verbal abuse she was about to receive—Maroni could be unpredictable, as she said, but she had an idea of what he'd say.

The mobster was sat behind his desk once more, back stiff and a fire obvious in his gaze. He watched Octavia like a hawk as she sat across from him, her arms crossed and eyes never leaving his.

"I trust you already know why you're here?"

"What, it's not just a social call?" Octavia's sarcasm was laced with a certain defensiveness as she quirked an eyebrow.

"Baresi, you're making yourself look stupid." Maroni rested his elbows against his desk, leaning forward imposingly, "Now, I'm just about convinced Crane is up to something, and yet you continue to bring me nothing—what am I supposed to think of that?"

Octavia had already prepared herself a little with ways she could lessen the blow of whatever Maroni might have in store for her, so she rolled her eyes and began, "Look, Crane is probably more intelligent than the both of us combined, and I think he's intelligent enough to know not to mess with you—and if he isn't… I imagine he knows exactly how to hide it from everyone. Especially now, since he knows you're watching him constantly."

Maroni's eyes narrowed, "And I hired you to find out any of these secrets—that's what you _claim_ to do, Baresi."

Octavia maintained her look of cockiness, nearly spouting out something condescending, but she knew it was best to keep on track, "Look, Sally, I'm honestly convinced he's not up to something, 'cause I can't find any substantial evidence—so, why are you still wasting your time with me?"

Maroni's eyes darkened and his jaw clenched before he looked past Octavia to the guard stationed by the door, "You're right, kid, why waste my time?"

Octavia heard the guard steps behind her and immediately jumped to her feet, turning quickly to find the man's raised arm and fluidly taking him by surprised to steal the gun from his hold. Her eyes were dark as she turned the gun back toward him, though underneath she was almost afraid of how comfortable Maroni was with just killing her on the spot like that.

"Now, you know that's not what I mean, Maroni." Octavia's tone was nearly confident, but one could almost hear that she was rattled by the abrasiveness. She glanced over her shoulder at the man's subtle grin before turning her body to be able to keep an eye on both men, "If anything, you should be taking action against Crane, not me, since he's the one I know you're actually pissed at."

"I don't need you tellin' me how to run this town." Maroni replied confidently, "That still doesn't solve the matter of you not delivering on your job."

Octavia glared in thought for a moment before she began coming up with a new argument, "Okay, how about this—release me from the job, give me only half of what we agreed on, and then I'll be out of your hair so that you can take care of Crane the way you see best fit if you choose to continue to pursue him."

Maroni leaned back his head and laughed condescendingly, " _Half_? You really think you deserve half when you didn't even bring back what I asked for?"

"A third, then."

"No." Maroni's expression was mocking, "You've _maybe_ earned a quarter and your life spared makes up for the rest."

"A third and my life."

The mobster clenched his jaw, harsh eyes staring holes into Octavia, "Don't push your luck, kid."

Octavia knew she should take it—Maroni wouldn't budge and if she continued to argue she'd get even less. Her bullheadedness wouldn't work with this man, no matter how much she hoped for it. So, finally, she sighed, posture slouching slightly in defeat. At the expression on her face, Maroni grinned and signalled to the man behind her.

"Robert, show Miss Baresi out." Octavia stared a little harshly at the mob boss before following the man who would give her her cash and show her to the door.

* * *

Octavia stood down the road from the boathouse, dragging her hands down her face in exasperation. On her drive over here, she thought over everything that had happened the last few weeks and started wondering why the fuck she agreed to work with the Scarecrow. Before, she didn't completely think the job through—she liked the thought of pissing off Maroni because at the time she was frustrated with him and for some goddamn reason she didn't want to refuse the chance to work with one of Gotham's finest criminals. But now, after nearly being shot in Maroni's office and only receiving a quarter of the earnings she originally signed up for, she began to wonder if any of this was actually worth it. Why did she think teaming up with Jonathan Crane would do her any good?

But maybe she was just feeling full of regret because of the money. Octavia was admittedly shallow, and she was rather looking forward to the money she was originally supposed to receive. This world was run by money, after all, and having it put her on top of the rest.

She was angry at Crane, but she knew she was more angry with herself for somehow letting the man charm her into a temporary partnership. Maybe she just saw it all playing out differently in her head than how it went, and now she was facing the burden of the reality of it all.

Finally, after letting out her frustrations with a few small screams and the throwing around of rocks and garbage, Octavia relaxed herself again.

A part of her honestly couldn't believe that just an hour earlier Maroni ended their contract. With the direction everything had taken recently, she knew it was for the best to get out of it, though this entire thing since the beginning was not what she expected it to be. But now she was done with one contract, and wasn't at all sure about what to do with the next one.

As she approached the boathouse, she spotted the usual guard at the door whose hand was resting securely on the gun attached to his belt. The man was on alert at seeing someone approach, and he only tensed up a little more once he realized it was Octavia.

"The boss is workin'." The man said harshly as she came to stand in front of him.

"And since when has that ever stopped me?" She responded with a roll of her eyes.

The guard shook his head, standing more imposingly in front of the door, "One of these days he's not gonna react so kindly to you barging in."

"Guess I'll just push my luck 'til then. Now, move outta the way." Octavia glared at the man.

After a few long moments of glaring at each other, the guard finally unlocked the door and allowed her to enter.

At the sound of the door creaking, Crane sighed from his seat leaning in front of a chemistry set; didn't anyone understand the point of leaving him be? He sat up straighter as he began to turn in his seat, "How many times do I have to say—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, you don't want to be bothered." Octavia replied coarsely.

Crane's eyes settled on the young woman, and almost immediately the Scarecrow muttered in frustration. Octavia's eyes were dark, and Crane knew that something had to have happened to get her as worked up as she appears.

"What brings you back around so soon?" Crane asked, eyes watching the woman carefully.

Briefly, he caught a glint of unsettlement in her virescent eyes, though she tried to cover it up, "I spoke with Maroni."

Immediately, Jonathan's mind was on high alert, the Scarecrow racing to a number of negative conclusions to draw from the statement.

Octavia could see the sudden conflict in his eyes, and nearly laughed jeeringly, "Oh, don't worry, I don't suspect he'll be coming after you anytime soon." Her tone was cold, causing the Scarecrow to remain doubtful. Crane could read both the harshness and the conflict in Octavia's eyes, "I'm not workin' for him anymore. So, maybe I shouldn't be working for you anymore, either."

 **She's gotta have an ulterior motive. Maroni's probably got something else up his sleeve.**

 _You really think she's going to get that tangled up into everything?_

 **She's already pretty damned tangled up if you ask me. She wants you to let down your guard so that Maroni and his guys have the upper hand. She's gonna destroy us, Johnny.**

Octavia could practically see Crane's eyes changing, causing an obviously confused expression to cross her face. What could possibly be going on in that man's head?

She took a step closer, causing Crane to stand stronger, "Look, I got myself into a big fucking mess when I took on this job, and I could've be killed back there in his office. Maybe it's better for me to leave it all fucking behind." She sighed, trying to think of the right words, "For some stupid reason, I let myself think working with you could be a good idea."

Jonathan stared, removing his glasses and setting them on the table beside him without moving his gaze from Octavia, "Sounds like you're just letting anger cloud your judgment… Having just come close to death recently, it makes sense. And at Maroni's hand, no less—that's what really must be pissing you off."

Octavia wanted to laugh in his face, to attempt to show she wasn't clouded by anger or similar, "I told him something he didn't want to hear, I should've been more prepared for his reaction. I told him there was no proof that you're up to something, but that doesn't mean he still won't suspect you. I told him, if he was so convinced, that he needed to face it straight on and not use me in a useless job. So, he may come after you. At least now you have a warning."

Crane almost glared.

 **She practically gave him the red flag to come after us! We need to get rid of her.**

 _She was simply saving her own skin. We already knew Maroni would be after us eventually. She just made that factor a little more unpredictable._

 **Open up your fucking eyes, she's still on their side and she's going to ruin us.**

Jonathan looked more closely at Octavia's eyes suddenly, cerulean meeting with emerald as he tried to read her.

 _She's not worth it._

 **Not worth it?**

 _She doesn't take any side but her own—she's not worth it._

For a few more moments, the pair continued to stare at each other.

"Look, I'm outta here." She finally spoke up before taking a step back from the man, "You obviously got somethin' going on up there, and I just wanna go home and forget about all of this for a while." She started walking for the door, "If you don't wanna keep me around anymore, figure out my payment and get it to me by tomorrow."

Crane was nearly surprised that Octavia could see his own internal struggles with the Scarecrow, though she certainly didn't realize the depth of it in the slightest. He watched as she reached for the door handle before he spoke up, "So, that's it? You work for a high class criminal for a few days and decide that it's just too hard and you need a break?"

Octavia looked over her shoulder at him, "Yes." Crane quirked an eyebrow, "What, not the reply you expected?" She turned back toward him for a moment, "The job doesn't seem worth any of the money right now, so I'm going back to what I'm good at."

"We'll be in touch, then." Octavia's brow furrowed.

"I almost hope not."

Crane smirked at her, taking slow strides in her directions, "Miss Baresi, you're too intelligent to be wasted."

Octavia could feel her heart rate speeding up, almost afraid to find out what the doctor meant by that. But he didn't say anything more, turning from her to go back to his work. She watched his back for a few long moment, before a potentially intrepid thought came to her, one that she wasn't sure how he'd respond to.

"We'll be in touch, then." She repeated his statement firmly and confidently before exiting the building without look back. Behind her, Crane grinned smally, both surprised and satisfied with the response he received.

* * *

 **Well there we go, chapter nine complete! As I said, this chapter changed the direction of my story, but it's for the better, because now I have all kinds of new ideas!**

 **Hope everyone enjoyed; please leave a review, let me know what you think! I'll get the next chapter out soon!**


	11. Ten: Nella gioia e nel Dolore

**This chapter is a little odd tbh. It's a bit of a filler at the beginning, but it's necessary to show a certain passage of time, because I don't want all the events of this story to feel so bunched together. The end of it though certainly has to make up for the oddness at the beginning, as it sets the next arc of this story into motion.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

That evening, Octavia went directly to her parents' home. After the long and stressful day she had, all the young woman wanted was to go vent to her mom and sit around watching old westerns with her father.

When she entered the home, Octavia's mother could read the stress in her face almost immediately, so the older woman led her into the living room to take a seat.

"Your father's on his way," Anita said simply as she turned to enter the kitchen, "Need some chocolate?"

Octavia immediately perked up a little at the thought of whatever dessert her mother had in the fridge; if there was one thing her family knew she loved, it was most certainly chocolate.

Once her mother was sat next to her again, Octavia finally began to share, "You and dad were right," she smirked, "and I know ya wanna rub it in a little, so go ahead."

Anita returned her daughter's expression, "I don't need to rub it in, I always knew I would be right."

Octavia wanted to laugh—she could always count on her mother's odd sense of humor. Sure, sometimes her mom didn't react well to situations, but when Octavia needed comfort the older woman always knew what to do.

"What happened, Vee?" Anita became serious again, "You look completely wiped."

Octavia knew she couldn't share all of the details—if she did, who knew how her family would respond. She did not want to deal with the added stress of that particular situation.

"Crane's too smart for me." She finally said, eyes casting down so that her mother couldn't potentially read the lies in her face, "I got in over my head, and that's what I had to tell Maroni. He didn't take it very well—I'm lucky to still be alive."

Anita's eyes immediately widened, her tone becoming more concerned, "What did he do to you?"

"Ma, nothing," Octavia shook it off, "Well, he did have a gun pointed at me, but that I can handle."

Anita sighed, eyes closing for a moment, "You knew what you were getting into, but it's still terrifying to imagine you at the opposite end of one of Maroni's guns."

"You still respect 'im after that?" The young woman asked suddenly, impulsively, but realized as she said it that now wasn't the time. The expression on her mother's face also reflected that, "Sorry, I just… after these last few weeks, things aren't so good between me and Maroni."

"I understand that, Vee," Anita comforted, "I have to ask, though, you seem distressed about more than that."

Octavia rubbed her temple as she thought up an explanation, "I'm just concerned for what Crane might do… part of me is afraid of what could happen to me."

And the response wasn't a complete lie. Octavia was, in fact, worried that this certainly wasn't the last she'd see of Jonathan Crane. After all, their contract wasn't broken, and she had a definite feeling that they'd cross paths a number of times in the future, she just hoped that they were under circumstances that didn't involve her becoming a test subject.

She wasn't necessarily afraid for herself, however. No, she knew that the next time she encountered Crane, she'd come out of it okay, and she certainly knew she wouldn't be afraid of him. It was simply concern for what might happen when they next see each other.

"Do you need to stay with us for a while?" Her mother quickly asked, "I don't want you alone right now if it could be dangerous, Vee."

"Maybe just tonight." Octavia agreed, but only because she was too tired to drive back home for the evening. Nothing sounded better than relaxing in the comfort of her childhood home and pretending her adult life didn't exist for a few hours.

Once Santino returned home and the family had dinner, Octavia joined her father back in the living room to start watching an old John Wayne film she grew up loving. She wouldn't say she was a particular fan of western films, it was more the familiarity and comfort they brought that she enjoyed so much.

By ten that evening, Octavia already felt tired and decided to turn in for the night. Entering her old bedroom put a smile on her face as she looked around at the artwork and decor she left behind. When she opened up the closest, there were still a few old articles of clothing left—of course, none of it was something she as an adult would choose to wear, but the sight of it all brought back both fond and embarrassing memories.

What was going to happen next? As she lied in bed hoping to fall asleep, this thought crossed Octavia's mind. Sure, she knew she was done with Maroni and he wouldn't be a burden, but the Scarecrow was another story. As she already knew, Crane would definitely return to her life, and she couldn't help but let herself get caught up in the thoughts of how that would happen. Though she didn't picture anything particularly extravagant in their next encounter, she had to wonder what could occur between them. And, of course, she wondered just how soon Crane would find his way back to her.

For whatever reason (and she hardly wanted to admit it to herself), Octavia was looking forward to this next time she thought up in her head. She wouldn't say she and Crane ever truly got along in the brief period of time they knew each other, however, she could see the potential—she could feel that, if under different circumstances, they could have gotten on quite well. So maybe that's what made her think so much about what their next encounter may be. Potential.

* * *

The following morning, Octavia returned to her apartment feeling refreshed after spending the evening with her family. She was ready to put her most recent job behind her and look to better opportunities. And that's how she found herself sat with her laptop at the desk beneath her large window, eyes skimming over information from a potential client. Today, she had decided, she'd begin looking into all those jobs she pushed to the side while she was working for Maroni, hoping that a few of them would still bite.

Octavia called back a few of the cases, getting some more information and a feel for the prospective clients. It was as she was in the middle of a phone call with a business CEO that she let her eyes begin to mosey across her desk; the man's droning had already made her bored, and she wondered if it was worth listening to his entire story at all. As she let her mind and eyes wander, Octavia's gaze settled on a manila folder at the far corner of the desk, noting the edge of a photo sticking out. She already knew what the file was about, and told herself not to pick it up, but against her better judgment she reached for it and pulled out that photo.

Staring back at her were Jonathan Crane's intense eyes, and at that point Octavia wasn't even aware of the voice on the other end of the phone. She set down the mobile (putting it on speaker in the process) and the photo before opening up the file and skimming through the paperwork. She slowly began to read Jonathan's journal notes that she stole photos of, still attempting to decipher his sloppy handwriting—she started reading the pages about his test subjects, those pages she had earlier chosen to ignore because of her own fear.

Did Crane write about her, she wondered. After all, he did use his toxin on her, so what's not to say Octavia didn't become a subject in some of his writings. What would he have written about her? That she was violent and wild? Or maybe he had subjects far more aggressive than she was, making Octavia nothing more than a mild and forgettable individual?

 _"Miss Baresi, what do you think?"_ The man on the phone asked, and at first Octavia didn't even seem to hear him, _"Miss Baresi?"_

Octavia started, eyes falling back onto the phone, "I'm sorry, I, uh…" She wondered how to explain herself to him before giving up, "Honestly, I wasn't even listening, you were incredibly boring."

Before the man could reply, she hung up the phone and sighed, rubbing her temples. She needed to find something to do. Not for the money, she had enough to hold her over for a while, but she knew her boredom would eat her up if she didn't keep herself preoccupied.

' _You have so many more options.'_ She told herself as she turned back to the list on her laptop, ' _Just pick one to hold you over until the more interesting jobs come in_.'

After picking another case, Octavia skimmed through it before sending out an email to the person in contact. Then she moved onto the next, skipped it. The next, she called, but it wasn't answered. The last one, she skipped as well.

"How can all these people be looking for a private investigator for such stupid fucking problems?" She asked out loud in exasperation. She stood, approaching one of her bookshelves as she thought. Maybe find some normal job to pass the time? Or maybe she needed to travel for a while, and take Brea with her like she promised. Traveling did always present her with some spectacular photo opportunities and she had a new camera that's just been waiting to get used for something other than a job.

So, she decided, without much more thought, that's what she'd do—get out of Gotham for a while. With a decision made and a smile on her face, Octavia grabbed her phone and called up Brea.

* * *

"Vee, I honestly can't thank you enough for this trip!" Brea said excitedly as the pair walked through the airport. Two weeks had passed, and they had just returned to Gotham after spending their time on the beaches of a Caribbean island. The two were returning exceedingly tanner and exceedingly happier, all negativity and responsibilities forgotten, "I haven't been on a vacation in years. Fuck, I can't even remember the last time I went out of the country!"

Octavia laughed as she bumped her friend's shoulder playfully, "See, being my friend has some definite perks."

"Well, you do know I'll only keep you around now for these vacations." Brea replied with the same sarcasm and humor Octavia always threw around.

"I would expect nothing else." The friends beamed at each other as they approached the luggage carousel and waited alongside the other travelers.

As the pair stood together, Brea turned her phone back on to begin checking messages and Octavia began to observe everyone around her. It was a particular habit of hers, to people watch and attempt to piece together their lives with a simple glance. It was something fun, she supposed—it was ultimately her curiosity of the world that made her wonder about everyone she saw.

While Octavia's eyes wandered the airport, they finally came to settle on one of the television screens across from the luggage area. This screen was broadcasting a GTV News report, something to do with a bank heist that had occurred just a couple hours before. Octavia nearly looked away boredly (bank robberies were pathetically common in Gotham, after all), but then an image of a playing card was shown on the screen, peeking her interested. So, without a word, she moved close enough so that she could read the subtitles across the screen.

" **—like a couple of other recent cases, a single Joker card was left behind.** " The subtitles read the words the reporter would have been saying if the volume for the television was on, " **And like the last few cases involving a Joker card, nothing was taken. The police have few leads currently, but they did state that Joker cards have been appearing at various crime scenes for a few months now. Police Detective Bullock has stated that, while there hasn't been any severe damage done, it seems as if the crimes are committed for the sake of making a statement, of gaining the GCPD's attention. Again, there are no further details available, but the police advise that citizens be on the lookout for any suspicious activity—** "

Octavia turned away as the news moved onto the next story. Her brows were furrowed curiously—initially, the news story didn't sound like anything more than someone just looking for attention. But the fact that it all seemed to be pulled off cleanly and without any photos available of the suspect, it made her wonder how drab the person could really be.

But she shook off the thought. She'd only just gotten back to the city, there was no point in allowing herself to already get caught up into its problems again. Brea was now approaching her with both their bags in tow, causing Octavia to rush forward to grab her own.

"You didn't have to grab my things, I was just on my way back."

The taller woman simply shrugged, "Not like grabbing one extra bag is a big deal." Octavia rolled her eyes as the two walked out to the curb to wait for the shuttle bus that would take them back to the parking garage, "What was it that you were watching, anyway?"

"Something on the news about some guy leaving Joker cards at crime scenes," Octavia waved it off, "Sounds like something we don't needa worry about."

"Joker cards, huh?" Brea almost laughed, "Seems like everyone's got a gimmick nowadays."

"You're tellin' me." Finally a bus pulled up and the two boarded along with a handful of other Gothamites, "Makes you wonder what people are gonna pull next."

The two continued on making jokes about crime gimmicks as the bus drove off.

* * *

As Octavia unlocked the door to her apartment, the paranoid part of her immediately began to investigate the space, hoping that in the two weeks she was gone no one had tried to break in. It was all too common in many parts of Gotham, which is why she tried to take all the precautions she could before she left town. Luckily, her nervousness worked in her favor, because, as she expected, her apartment appeared completely untouched.

So, she stepped inside and dropped her bags down onto the couch, telling herself that she'd get to unpacking them tomorrow (when, in actuality, she knew she probably wouldn't actually touch them for a week or so). Octavia settled down beside her bags, sighing a little as she looked around her home—being back was somehow both a relief and a nuisance. There was always something comforting about returning home after a trip, but that also meant she had to return to her everyday life.

As Octavia gazed around herself, her eyes fell to the shelves beside her front door, where a single white sheet of paper sat perched on the corner. With a raised brow and a peaked paranoia, she stood back up to go and grab it. As she picked the paper of the wooden surface, she realized that this meant someone had definitely entered her home, and with intention. She opened up the slip of paper to find a short note written in familiar, sloppy handwriting.

 _I did say we'd keep in touch._

But that was it, and Octavia wasn't sure if that was more of a comfort or not. Crane had somehow gotten into her apartment, and there was most definitely a reason for it. Not just to scare her, that was for certain, though his note did leave something to be desired.

He kept it short for a reason, however. He knew it would leave her curious. And he also knew Octavia would certainly give into that curiosity and go to him again for information.

Octavia grumbled in frustration as she scrunched the note up in one hand. She had only been back to Gotham for _two hours_ and she was already dealing with this shit again. To say she was downright pissed might have been an overstatement; frustrated was probably the better word, though at the moment it seemed to manifest as anger.

"Maybe I need another fuckin' vacation…" She muttered to herself as she went to her bedroom to change out of her travel close into something more suited for a meeting with the Scarecrow.

Once she made herself presentable, Octavia practically stomped out of her apartment and to her motorcycle. She drove haphazardly through the streets of Gotham all the way to the damned boathouse she hoped not to see so soon.

As she approached the building, her steps were full of purpose as she approached the guard outside, who just so happened to be the man she'd given a black eye to almost three weeks prior. At the sight of Octavia, the man was shocked and frozen for a moment before he took a note from her own book and aimed his gun at her.

"Open the door." She said firmly.

"The hell are you doing back here?" The man responded in the same tone, though possibly with a little more aggression.

"Open the damned door, your boss has been trying to get my attention again."

"Fuck off!" The man wanted to laugh at her, doubting what she said.

Octavia's eyes narrowed, and in her frustration she very nearly pulled out her own gun to make a point, but she stopped herself. She took a brief moment to take a deep breath before she relaxed. Though her eyes remained dark and powerful, Octavia raised up her hands in surrender, hoping that would let the man feel as if he'd won now.

"Just open the door, Crane's been trying to get in touch with me." The man looked doubtful as his gun remained aimed at the young woman, "If you don't believe me, just go fuckin' ask him."

"I swear, if you try anything…" the man started as he stepped backward for the door, trying to quickly unlock it without letting his eyes leave Octavia for too long. For a brief few moments, he disappeared inside, and eventually the door was opened, the man exiting with a glare still on his features. He wordlessly motioned for her to enter, wishing that all he could do right then and there was give her a swift punch to the eye just as she had done to him.

After Octavia had slammed the boathouse door behind her, she was face-to-face with Jonathan Crane once more. Her expression was a little aggressive, while his almost read as amusement (which nearly pissed her off more).

"Breaking into my apartment isn't very professional." She mocked as Crane gave her a quick up-down.

"Says the woman who breaks into places for a living."

Octavia's glare deepened for a moment, "I do more than just leave ominous notes, though."

"Well, you weren't home, and I wanted to make sure you got back in touch." Crane then turned away from her carelessly, looking at the notebook he left behind on his desk, "What took you so long? Gone on a tropical adventure?"

"Spying on me now?" Octavia was in near shock as she stared at him, "And here I thought that was my repertoire, not yours."

Crane gave a shrug, "One does what they must…"

"What do you want, Crane?" Octavia relaxed a little from the anger high she seemed to have been on, though the glare was still present in her eyes.

"Let's say I have a job opportunity for you."

The young woman wanted to scoff, "Job opportunity? I'm nearly surprised you didn't just end our contract after everything that happened with Maroni."

"Because the job isn't the same, Miss Baresi, and we both knew we'd cross paths again." Crane returned his full attention to her, approaching slowly and almost casually, "This time maybe it won't be too hard for you."

His condescending tone irked Octavia, but she bit back any harsh remark, "Insulting me won't make me any more interested in working for you."

"So you aren't interested, then?" Crane 'tsk'ed slightly.

Octavia shrugged, "I'd be interested if you acted a little more human and less like you are somehow above me."

Crane's smirked became a near smile, "That's fair…"

"We're equals, Crane, I'm not some idiot like your guy out there." Octavia motioned to the door behind her, "So no more of this ominous, 'greater-than-thou' bullshit."

Crane's eyebrows rose at the instruction.

 **You missed this, Jonny, didn't ya?**

 _Being bossed around? No._

 **You know I don't mean that.** The Scarecrow's tone was aggressive, **You missed some intelligent banter. You missed it so much that you created a task just to get this girl back so that you could talk to someone smarter than a fucking nail.**

Crane's counterpart was right, in some ways. Sure, Jonathan missed speaking to someone intelligent, since more often than not he was either alone or surrounded by guards and henchmen. And a part of it was also the intrigue surrounding Octavia. But, ultimately, Crane needed someone intelligent on his side, at least some of the time. This young woman could work a job better than just about anyone in this city, if her reputation was true, and that's the kind of person Jonathan could use every now and then.

"What you call me here for, Crane?" Octavia finally asked, feeling the tension in the air beginning to settle down.

Crane straightened up slightly as he spoke, "I've been working on a new compound, and I'm ready to begin distributing it."

"New compound as in new fear toxin?" Octavia questioned with a raised eyebrow, crossing her arms, "What does it have to do with me?"

"I need someone who knows the mob—I intend to make a major play soon, and with your knowledge of the mob, I'll get it all right." the man walked to his lab equipment and picked up a container of capsules, eying them before turning his sharp eyes back onto Octavia, "I want to start getting this on the streets, but I don't need the mob knowing yet—if they find out too soon that I'm interfering in their business with this, then the plan won't work."

Octavia's gaze was on the capsules—had Crane managed to make an ingestible version of his toxin? She could see how marketable that would be on the streets if people were unaware of what was really in it—after all, not every druggie out there is comfortable with needles. A pill, however, nearly everyone was willing to try.

"So, I'm your access to mob information…" Octavia started, taking a couple of strides toward the man to snatch the bottle from his hands before he could protest. Her inquisitive eyes studied them as she continued, "You need to know what areas to work in and which to avoid? The right clientele? Or something more serious?"

Crane couldn't help the grin that crossed his lips as he leaned back against his desk and watched the woman with intrigue, "All of the above, Miss Baresi." With the pills still held up for close inspection, Octavia turned her eyes back to the doctor, "Up for the challenge?"

Against her better judgment, the young woman was practically beaming with amusement, "It'll be like child's play."

"Good," Crane stood to his full height just a few inches away from Octavia, snatching the bottle back from her hand, "then let's begin."

* * *

 **Firstly** — **no** **, the bank heist mentioned above is certainly not the one from TDK (though maybe that was obvious). However, this crime was used to indicate the timeline of the story. The Joker is building up toward something, and this is simply the beginning of the trouble he's causing. Though I doubt I'll include much of the Joker, just know that I will reference to him now and again to keep the timeline in check.**

 **One thing I've wanted to mention (that I keep forgetting to!) are my fic and chapter titles! Every title is in Italian (as I imagine most everyone pieced together), but they are all song titles from the artist HIM. When I first started writing this story, their music was an odd sort of inspiration for me, as their sound seems oddly reminiscent of the Scarecrow. So, maybe have their music in the background next time you read? Or not, just know that I'm 100% sure Octavia would listen to them and love them. Also, go listen to 'Poison' by Alice Cooper and just try to tell me that isn't the Jonathan/Octavia anthem. Just try.**

 **Please leave reviews and let me know how you think this chapter went! I'll get a new update out soon!**


	12. Eleven: Cerchio di Paura

**Yeee, I've been soo looking forward to sharing this chapter with everyone! Especially since the last chapter was kinda subpar.**

 **On a more exciting note, I finally know how this story will end! I've written a rough draft of the epilogue, so now I have more direction with this story. Not to say the end will be coming up soon, but it's a strong motivation to keep on going!**

 **I hope everyone enjoys!**

* * *

Octavia found herself walking the streets of the Old Gotham district, a mid-May breeze blowing her hair behind her. Her eyes studied the surroundings cooly—she was walking past the police station as it approached ten in the morning, just as she had promised to her contact. And sure enough, not a minute later she felt an arm bump hers nonchalantly as a small, Latino man began walking alongside her. For a moment, the two didn't acknowledge each other, simply as if they both happened to be walking to the same destination without actually knowing one another.

"Whatcha got for me, Eroz?" Octavia finally asked in a casually tone. The part of Old Gotham the pair were approaching was a part of Gambol's territory, the area that Eroz Medina was particularly familiar with; Octavia, on the other hand, knew very little about the inner workings of crime on this side of town. The two were each other's informants, sharing information on terfs and dealings between areas and groups they didn't often frequent.

"Looks like the African mob is tryna expand their turf, get some more business in Chinatown and the Diamond District." He replied, eyes forward as they continued down the street. Eroz was a man of business, so he knew he had to be careful not to be caught sharing information with Octavia because of her obvious ties to the Italian mob, "But Gambol won't notice if your new stuff ends up circulating around here—he's got bigger things to worry about than drugs. Whatever your connection is trying to get out there, they can definitely distribute around here."

Octavia gave a small nod, "Will this affect your business, though?"

Eroz was a drug lord in the making, so to speak. Over the years, he had been developing quite a network and reputation, all the while remaining under an alias to keep the police off his tail. And if the new district attorney doesn't catch onto him, Eroz was sure his business would only continue to thrive.

Octavia's question, however, made him nearly chuckle, "I doubt it—me and my guys got a strong rep out here, that won't be hurt by a small drug going around the streets that, in all honesty, probably won't pick up speed."

This time, it was Octavia that wanted to laugh as she allowed a grin to cross her lips, "You think my product isn't going to succeed out here?" She, of course, doubted it too, but she couldn't help poking a little fun at her acquaintance.

"I don't think it, I know it." The corner of Eroz' mouth tugged upward before he stole a glance toward Octavia, "Outta curiosity, though, I gotta ask—whatcha tryna put out there?"

"Nothing you've seen before, I guarantee it." Octavia's tone suggested he not ask anymore questions, but Eroz didn't seem to care.

"I'm running a drug ring, I've seen just about everything; so, what is it?" His tone was both curious and insistent as the pair rounded a busy corner, keeping close without ever making contact.

"Honestly," Octavia sighed, "I just know it's somethin' else, that's all I got." The look that flashed in Eroz' eyes was doubtful, "I swear to ya, my client isn't very eager to share details—I'm just around to make sure things go according to his plan."

"Well ain't that suspicious." the pair were silent for a long beat, "You sure you can trust the guy if he ain't even telling ya what you're tryna sell?"

Octavia shook her head, "I know I can't trust him," again, she nearly laughed mockingly, "but we all gotta make money somehow."

Now, Eroz finally came to a stop, sinking up against an alleyway wall to light a cigarette, "Let's face it, you do much classier jobs than this… so what are you doin' out here, Baresi? The drug rings aren't your speed."

For a moment, Octavia watched him before fishing her own newly opened pack of cigarettes from her purse, "I can't even begin to explain it to you, Eroz."

A minute or so went by of the two simply staring off in thought as they smoked—Eroz about Octavia's previous statement, and Octavia about his question.

Finally, Eroz stood back to his full height, which was only a couple inches taller than the woman beside him, "Whatever you've gotten yourself into, just keep me in the loop, alright?"

"I owe you that much," Octavia nodded, "You'll know the circulation of the drugs once they're out on the streets."

Eroz gave her a look of agreement, "Got all the info ya need?"

Once more, Octavia nodded, "Thanks for the help."

"You can count on me," the Latino gave a small, lazy salute as he began walking away, "just remember your promise."

It was another minute before Octavia finished her cigarette and then departed the alleyway, beginning the trek back to Crane's hideout.

* * *

As expected, Crane was alone inside the boathouse upon her arrival, however, this time he wasn't actually sat at a desk scribbling notes as he usually was. At first, Octavia didn't spot him, as he was sat up on the loft with a book in hand. Even as she entered, Crane didn't seem to react or acknowledge she was there, simply flipping the page to continue his novel.

After setting down the large bag she brought along with her, Octavia approached the ladder to the loft slowly, eyes shifting focus from the doctor's face to the familiar looking paperback in his hands. She realized the book was a collection of Edgar Allan Poe short stories, and this particular copy was the one straight off of her own bookshelf. She could feel a frustration growing inside her, but she keep herself leveled.

"Stealing from me, too, huh?" She questioned, head turned up to continue looking at his face.

"And now the thief knows how it feels…" Crane responded nonchalantly as he continued to stare at the page.

A realization then crossed Octavia's mind, and her brow furrowed, "Have you had that since the night you broke into my apartment while I was gone?"

Now, Crane couldn't help but smirk, allowing his eyes to flicker toward her gaze, "Took you long enough to notice." Finally, he set aside the worn book to climb down the ladder and stand in front of Octavia, reading the scrutiny in her eyes quite clearly, "Believe it or not, I do have interests outside of my work."

"Could've fooled me." A part of Octavia very nearly wanted to ask about his interests, or maybe even offer to bring more books for him to read, but she shook that thought rather quickly, suspecting he wouldn't be willing to share, "I just met with a guy to get word on Gambol's district." She could see Jonathan perk up, crossing his arms as he leaned against the ladder and watched her attentively, "You could definitely get away with distributing on his turf, but we still need to avoid the Italian and Chechyan territory until you're ready. Anything that's not theirs is free rein."

Crane simply nodded, "And you know where all their territories fall?"

"I've been doin' my research," Octavia finally turned her back on the doctor to dig around in the bag she dropped on his table. After a moment, she pulled out a rolled up paper and went to hang it on the wall, revealing it to be a map of Gotham, "I can show you everything you need to know."

Once the map was set up, Octavia pulled out different colored markers, and uncapped one to begin marking up the paper in front of her, "Red, Maroni; blue, Chechen; green, Gambol." She said simply, beginning to outline the East End with her red marker. The Italian Mob territory was easily the largest, covering just more than a third of the map (which included the Upper Gotham dock district they were hiding out in now). The Chechen had a much smaller turf at the northern end of Gotham that ended just at the border of the Narrows, and, finally, Gambol's southern turf, which he was slowly but surely trying to expand.

"Everything green and unmarked is fair play." She turned back around to find Crane eying the map thoughtfully, obviously beginning to plan where to begin.

Though he wasn't sharing with Octavia, Crane had his plans coming together in his mind—start in the Narrows, where test subjects are easiest to reach, then move on to Gotham Heights, a little more risky but the farthest from any mob territory. Once he was done on the north side, he'd then start down in Tricorner and Chinatown, if he didn't think he was quite ready to move onto mob turf. When he was finally ready to gain mob attention, Crane would move in on the Chechen's Gotham Village territory.

For a few long moments, Octavia watched as the gears turned in Crane's head, waiting for him to speak up and share the plan. But after a minute or so of silence, the man then turned to his desk and began shuffling through his paperwork. Octavia moved to lean on the wall nearest him, watching the doctor move with a curious expression.

"I gotta ask, Crane, what exactly are you planning?" The man paused for a moment, cool eyes looking up to meet the young woman's gaze.

 **If we tell her everything, do you think she'll be frightened or excited?**

Crane could almost hear the amused smile in the Scarecrow's tone.

 _We aren't telling her anything, so we'll never know._

 **Where's your sense of fun, Johnny? Don't you wanna see just how twisted this girl could actually be?**

Crane couldn't help the glare that crossed his features, but he remained silent, much to Octavia's annoyance.

"Really, you're givin' me nothing?" She cocked her head to the side, noticing the far off look in Crane's glaring eyes.

 _What makes you so suddenly interested in her in the first place?_

 **You seem to want to keep her around for a reason, I'm pushing to find out why.**

And Crane could certainly almost feel the push that the Scarecrow was talking about. For whatever reason, his counterpart was trying to be in control, to push Crane to the side and allow Scarecrow some time in the light.

 _What are you trying to do?_

 **Come on, just lemme talk to her, just this once. You need a break, Johnny; let me out for a couple hours, take some time off.**

 _And risk everything I'm planning? No._

 **You wound me. I don't care about our plan right now, I care about seeing what this girl is made of.**

 _You've already seen it._

 **Not as up close and personal as you, though.**

"Christ, Crane, are you just going to completely ignore me now?" Octavia's tone had gotten louder, trying to pull the doctor out of whatever thoughts were distracting him. She moved to stand just a few inches from him, "You gotta tell me something, Crane, don't fucking keep me completely in the dark."

It was then the Scarecrow took his opportunity, pushing past Crane to take the reigns. And the immediate change took Octavia by surprise. Crane's head whipped around to face her quickly, and his eyes were darker than before, something lurking in them that she couldn't place. If possible, it somehow seemed as if Crane was taller, as suddenly he was much more imposing than Octavia knew him to usually be. This wasn't reminiscent of when they fought all those weeks ago or when he used the toxin against her. Something about Crane was suddenly more… primal.

"You want to know what we have planned?" The voice that spoke to Octavia was certainly Crane's, but his tone was darker, "We've hardly shown Gotham what we're cable of."

The doctor moved forward, as if intending to intimidate Octavia. In her eyes shown a new type of concern and confusion (nearly verging on distress), but she held her ground, standing firm as Crane's face came within inches of hers.

"These drugs…" he started, head slinking about to eye all the work Crane had been working on, "are just a means of making some cash. A way to wiggle our way into the mobs. You think we like living like _this_?" The Scarecrow raised his arms to the old boathouse for emphasis.

Octavia's gears were turning rapidly as she took in everything—the uncharacteristic movements, that darkness in Crane's eyes, his tone of voice. This was a side she had yet to see of Crane, and she knew she had to figure it out immediately.

Of course, the Scarecrow couldn't help but grin as her eyes stared into his. He could see the combination of alarm and thoughtfulness in Octavia's gaze, enjoying every little reaction she was giving him.

"We'll control the mobs," He finally continued, "every drug deal, every meeting—all a part of the plan. With our work, we'll begin to force our way into control—this toxin is more than just a hobby, we three know that."

Almost snake-like, the Scarecrow began to walk around Octavia, slowing circling 's body followed, knowing from experience to never take her eye off a predator. The intense look of both assertiveness and fear in her gaze made the Scarecrow's grin increase.

He finally halted to lean over her shoulder fiendishly, and he could see how she was trying to piece everything together by the flickering movement of her eyes.

Octavia finally inhaled deeply, "Who is _we_?"

Even through her anxiety, her tone was strong, intense gaze moving to make eye contact once more. She turned, chest nearly bumping the doctor's as her brows furrowed in a glare.

A few ideas had crossed Octavia's mind over the course of time that Crane spoke. There had been quite a bit of gossip surrounding the doctor when he was first arrested all those months back, and she realized maybe some of the theories she heard were more true than she initially realized.

"You know _exactly_ who." Was the sole response she received, causing her eyes to widen in shock before returning to a glare. This time however, there seemed to be an amused undertone in her expression, one that the Scarecrow picked up on easily.

"I wondered how true some of those rumors were." She replied with a newfound confidence, now knowing the situation better. The two were still stood a couple of small inches apart, able to see every tick and flicker in one another's expressions. The Scarecrow's smirk was mirrored back at him in Octavia's face, "So, why is it that you're finally showing yourself to me?"

"Johnny _really_ didn't want me talking to you…" the Scarecrow answered, tipping his head down slightly, "You—I'm not a particular fan of."

Octavia almost laughed, "What, is the Scarecrow worried by little ol' me?"

"You're a nuisance."

"Tell me something I don't know."

The Scarecrow's expression was verging on smug, "Johnny likes you a little too much for my taste."

"Oh?" Octavia quirked an eyebrow, a suggestive look gleaming in her eyes (which was a slight show to hide the initial surprise that crossed her mind). On the inside, she could feel the slight pick up in her heartbeat at the man's words; some part of her was almost happy with the information, though she knew to keep her cool while with the Scarecrow.

A carnal darkness appeared on the man's amused expression, "What you're thinking of is a little more my territory than his."

"So then you _do_ like me." She huffed out a small laugh.

The Scarecrow shook his head once, "Now you're just trying to be a distraction to the both of us."

"Is it working?"

After one more brief moment, Octavia finally stepped back, realizing just how much heat was building up between their two bodies. And it was as if that step back turned her into another person, because gone was her suggestive attitude to be replaced by a defensive, though nearly bored, one.

"So, was this just some kind of control tactic? Trying to scare me? I don't think that exactly went according to plan."

"It would've if you were anyone else." the Scarecrow's stance was still almost predatory, "But if you were anyone else, we wouldn't be here right now."

She grinned, "Is that what Crane likes about me?"

"Yes," the answer was quick, "And the thing I _don't_ like about you."

"What are you so worried about? You think I'll rat you out or ruin your plans?"

"You're an untrustworthy distraction—you barge in here with your brains and your bickering, and Johnny suddenly cares a little less about our goal and cares a little more about seeing just how smart you are."

"And what do you do? Growl about me like the primitive thing you are?"

The Scarecrow barked out a laugh, " _Primitive_?"

Octavia shrugged as if she didn't just insult one of the most feared men in Gotham, "Well, seems to me that all you think about is power and survival." She then thought back to one of his previous comments, "And sex, I assume."

For a few long moments, the Scarecrow simply stared with narrowed eyes before grinning, "I guess you _are_ smart…"

"Tell that to the teachers that almost didn't let me graduate high school…"

The smirk remained on the man's face, "I still don't like having you around." He moved back toward Octavia, standing over her almost too casually for his character, "If you ever need _something else,_ however…"

He then turned away, signalling the end of the conversation. Octavia cocked her head as the man walked from her, his posture straightening slightly, which was the surefire indicator that Crane was back. Of course, he was entirely aware of everything that had just occurred, and for a moment all he could do was assess the conversation that had just happened.

The pair were silent as Crane looked over the work on his desk, Octavia watching his back with a slightly furrowed brow. A tension was creeping between them, making the young woman increasingly uncomfortable. She didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say. How was she to bounce back from that conversation?

Jonathan didn't know what to say either—he tried to turn back to his work as if the discussion never happened, but he was just as easily aware of the tension that Octavia felt. And eventually, that anxiety felt so great that the young woman abruptly began to walk for the door, not stealing another glance back at the man. She didn't acknowledge the guard either as she walked around the boathouse to sit at the edge of the harbor. She fumbled to pull her pack of cigarettes from her inner jacket pocket, lighting one up with a slight glower in her eyes.

She took a large breath, unsure of what she was thinking. Back in the boathouse, she managed to keep herself collected in front of the Scarecrow, but now that she was alone, she allowed herself to feel rattled. Though she wasn't necessarily frightened by what was revealed to her, she certainly felt an anxiety and a confusion. Crane was evermore complex now, and she needed to figure out how to properly approach the Scarecrow in the future.

When Octavia finished her cigarette and reentered the building, Jonathan was surprised, assuming she had returned home after the stress caused by the Scarecrow.

 **Gotta hand it to her, girl's tough as nails.** The Scarecrow nearly snickered at Crane's surprise, **Doesn't want to run from anything, not even us. Though, I was almost hoping she would.**

Octavia held Crane's eye contact the entire time she walked toward him, and once she was close enough, the doctor could pick up the stench of cigarettes on her clothes, surprising him further ( **Not a very attractive habit, is it?** ) For a few long moments, they watched each other, Octavia leaning against a post with her hands stuffed in her jacket pockets as Crane stood over his desk.

"So, the Scarecrow wants to be some kind of kingpin?" She finally broke the silence. Jonathan stared at her for a few moments longer, his cerulean eyes not giving way to any of his thoughts. Finally, his posture relax slightly as he set aside whatever paper he was holding.

"If that's how you want to put it." his response was followed by a moment of awkward silence, "It's not just Scarecrow, you know." Octavia quirked an eyebrow, "He and I are not exactly separate, keep that in mind."

"So, you two…" Octavia was left speechless, much to the surprise of the, both, "I… I'm sorry, it's kind of a lot to wrap my head around."

"It really isn't that difficult," Crane crossed his arms, giving off an air of defensiveness. All Octavia could do was stare, attempting to think up her response. She certainly didn't want to offend Jonathan, but she had never been in this type of position before, had never really gotten to know mental illnesses up close. It was something she knew she had to tackle if she were to continue working with Crane.

After another few long moments of staring into each other's gazes, Octavia opened her mouth, prepared to speak, but nothing came out. She felt that anything she could say would be the wrong thing. So instead she stood silent, probably looking a complete fool, she reckoned.

And once more, she abruptly turned for the door, stomping out as an attempted to escape. With an intense gaze, Jonathan's eyes followed her and lingered on the front door, feeling both the combined emotions of defensive and dejected, and he was certainly confused by his own emotions.

 _'What just happened?'_ he thought, though he knew the Scarecrow was just as aware of what he was thinking and feeling.

 **I guess she may be running away after all.** And the grim, mocking tone was the last thing Jonathan wanted to deal with at that moment.

* * *

 **Pleasepleaseplease give me some feedback! This chapter was soo important to me and I'd love to hear what everyone else thought about it. How was my version of the Scarecrow? Did I do him justice? Lemme know!**


	13. Twelve: Sarò la Fine di Te

**I've had 'Poison' stuck in my head for like a week now, so I guess that it's a sign that I needed to post the next update!**

* * *

Octavia couldn't sleep that night. Perhaps due to a little fear, but more so because of sheer curiosity. Initially, she wasn't sure how to interact with Crane after her encounter with the Scarecrow, as her thoughts were completely jumbled. Now, however, after having time to process her own thoughts, she found herself to be undeniably curious; it was that and her current anxiety over being alone that had her awake at three AM with her laptop in hand, attempting to find relevant information on Crane's disorder. Of course, she still didn't know exactly what Crane was dealing with (as he obviously never fully disclosed it, and she was trying not to make serious assumptions about his mental health), but she looked into his personality traits and his behavior as the Scarecrow.

A few disorders stood out to her, including Narcissistic Personality Disorder, so she read and bookmarked many pages full of information. Again, Octavia didn't want to assume too much after a single discussion with the Scarecrow, but at least the research was helping to put her mind at ease.

She wouldn't let their last encounter deter her too easily, of that Octavia was certain. She knew she could still handle Crane, and she could definitely handle the job. But this Scarecrow side of him, however, had her hesitating—as tough as she may be, she couldn't deny the man manage to frighten her some tonight. She was even more tangled up in the mess that was Jonathan Crane now, and she was incredibly conflicted regarding how she felt about it.

Octavia enjoyed the man, that much she knew—she couldn't deny anymore that a part of her liked his attitude and their conversation. They had finally started to warm up to each other, and suddenly she met the Scarecrow. Maybe that was on purpose—some tactic to get her to back off from him, some way to remind her who was in change. But she couldn't say for sure. No, Octavia had to remind herself that she most definitely couldn't read Jonathan's mind, so there's no way of knowing why, of all times, he chose last night to reveal the Scarecrow to her.

Eventually, Octavia fell asleep leaning up against her headboard, computer still in her lap. And she awoke only a few hours later, body feeling incredibly sore from falling asleep in such a position. She spent the start of her morning grumpy and groaning, trying to stretch out the pain in her body and make a lot of coffee to wake herself up.

Later in the morning, she got back onto the computer to check out the current news, stopping to laugh at an article about fake Batman's running around the city and how both the police and District Attorney were asking them to stop while they're ahead.

 _'What the hell's next?'_ She thought before going back to her bedroom to clean up and get ready for the day.

Mid-afternoon, Octavia was on her way to meet a potential client that she had earlier received a call from. She made her way down toward a business office in the Upper Gotham district, conveniently close to Crane's boathouse.

After accepting the job and mounting her motorcycle again, Octavia's thoughts drifted back to Crane, much to her displeasure—recently, the man was crossing her mind much too often. Normally, she'd just brush it off as being particularly focused on her job, but she knew (and has known) that it was more than that. What it was, though, she still couldn't quite sort out. It was too many complex things rolled into one.

Though a part of her wanted to go to the boathouse and talk to Jonathan again, she didn't feel ready for it—after last night, Octavia needed some space from the one thing that managed to frighten her in quite a while. And she was sure Crane would be amused, counting down just how long it would take her to build up the courage to confront him.

For now, she knew, she needed a bit of distance.

* * *

When Octavia finally decided to show her face at the boathouse again nearly a week later, it appeared that no one was around, and she wondered if maybe that meant Crane wasn't around either (which also made her realize that the two needed a better form of communication moving forward—maybe she needed to get them some disposable phones). Nonetheless, she wanted to at least find out if perhaps the doctor had stayed behind this time around.

As Octavia moved closer, she was almost sure she noticed light filtering through the nearly boarded up windows, and when she knocked on the door she definitely heard movement inside.

Eventually, Jonathan opened the door, his typical cool expression on his face. Octavia took a deep breath to calm herself as for a very brief moment the two simply stared. She hoped he didn't notice her clenched fists or her slightly more rigid breaths as their eyes stayed locked in contact.

Finally, the man stepped aside to allow her entrance, eyes following her as she walked into the small building.

"New look for you?" Though his words were teasing and had that typical Crane nonchalance to them, Octavia picked up on something almost condescending (or perhaps maybe she was just imagining it).

"Worked a job." her answer was short as she tried to pretend she didn't look ridiculous with her uncharacteristic make-up and hair. The tension was palpable between them, but Octavia hoped it would dissolve sooner rather than later.

"I take it your return is a good sign?" Crane leaned against one of the desk chairs, arms crossed as he raised an eyebrow.

Octavia gave a smirk, though it didn't quite reach her eyes, "Glad you look at it that way."

"Well, after the way you ran out of here last we spoke…"

"I don't quite remember running." She countered more characteristically, fingers uncurling as she relaxed slightly. She knew for a fact that she was speaking to Crane, not the Scarecrow, and yet her hesitation stayed in place.

Jonathan could feel her unease, and a part of him was hurt by it, much to his dismay. She was holding back her usual self, and maybe a few weeks ago that wouldn't have bothered him, but as he was now, Jonathan was rather enjoying the friendship they were slowly developing. But, of course, nothing was ever easy for him—she had to learn about the Scarecrow eventually, though he wished it hadn't happened the way it did.

The corner of Jonathan's mouth tugged upward just slightly, thinking perhaps it would help her calm.

"I just needed some time to think."

"The Scarecrow tends to leave an impression on people."

"It's not necessarily a bad one." Jonathan gave her a doubtful look, "Well, not a great one, but not exactly a bad one in my book either."

The man gave a small, dubious 'hmm,' looking down toward her hands, then to her lips, and finally back to her eyes. He completely noticed all of her hesitant ticks, she realized, though she shouldn't have expected anything less. The pair remained silent for a few long moments—Octavia watched him thoughtfully as the man's eyes slowly drifted from her. She couldn't help but wonder if perhaps the Scarecrow was speaking to Jonathan right now, and if he was, what he might be saying.

"I'm not afraid of you, Crane," She spoke up again, shaking her head slightly, "Not of you."

The man grinned again as his eyes met hers, "You've proven that, Ms. Baresi, several times. The fact that you keep coming back is proof enough."

"I just can't stay away from you." Octavia natural sarcastic nature peeked through before her eyes became a little serious, "For whatever dumb reason, you manage to keep my interest, which not too many can do."

"I'm flattered." His tone as well was joking in its own way (though somehow he always seemed to maintain an air of coolness in Octavia's eyes).

 **If I didn't know any better, I'd say you two are flirting.** The Scarecrow's tone was almost sneering, causing Jonathan's face to deadpan slightly before Octavia could completely notice, **Maybe seeing your dark side does something for her.**

"What about the Scarecrow?" Jonathan asked in an attempt to ignore the voice in question.

Octavia had hoped he wouldn't mention that again, "What about… him?" (Should she say 'him' or 'you,' she caught herself wondering as she said it).

"You're not afraid of me, Jonathan Crane—you didn't say anything about being unafraid of the Scarecrow." His expression was thoughtful and curious as he awaited her response.

The young woman licked her lips, taking a few moments, "He… frightens me a little. But he's a part of you. And like I said, I find you rather interesting."

 **Well, if this isn't cheesy…**

Octavia's persistence fascinated Jonathan—anyone willing to continuously face the man that drugged her on their first meeting was someone you didn't come by very often, after all. Her interest in Jonathan outweighed her fear of the Scarecrow, at least for now, and that was something incredibly intriguing to him. He could feel a certain warmth at the thought, one that he was unfamiliar with.

"Am I correct to assume you're still on the job?" Jonathan finally asked to break their silent staring contest.

Octavia gave a nod, "It would seem so."

Crane moved off of the chair to stand to his full height, "Good." he took a few steps toward the map of Gotham, "I'm having my toxin distributed as we speak." He motioned with his chin toward the map.

"Just straight to business, huh?" Octavia was nearly surprised at his quick change of topic.

"Would you rather we sit here and talk further about your feelings?" His tone was mocking, "I'm not a therapist anymore, Ms. Baresi."

Octavia sighed and shook her head, "Nevermind…" She said dismissively, looking back to their map as a means to say _'continue.'_

"...I have some of our guys out in the Narrows right now." Jonathan stepped closer to the map.

Octavia couldn't help but be a little perturbed as she thought about the people out there going under what she had once experienced. It made her recall his Terror Night from all that time ago, the event she was lucky enough to only see on the news and not experience for herself. Would the new distribution be anything like that?

But Octavia shook away those thoughts, knowing that this was business she'd already put herself in, and she knew even if she tried to back out that she'd return.

She put on her business face as she moved to stand next to him.

"And what do you need from me?" She looked up to watch Jonathan's expression.

"Your job is to keep eyes and ears open, pay attention to make sure nothing interferes."

"Sounds like crap," her blunt comment caused Jonathan to give her a confused look that she shrugged her shoulders at, "You know you don't have to worry about interference. Suspicions, yes, but no one will mess with it as long as you keep to the plan." Octavia stepped closer to the doctor, smirking mockingly, "Sounds like _you're_ the one making excuses to keep me around."

 **She has you there, Johnny.**

Jonathan, however, played into her teasing, knowing that it would only help her relax more, "Then perhaps you're the one that should be flattered, Ms. Baresi."

For some silly reason, Octavia's heart fluttered just slightly as the pair stared at each other silently.

 _'The fuck is wrong with me?'_ She thought, realizing what that fluttering in her chest might be telling her. But she finally turned from him, continuing her collected facade.

"When you have something more substantial for me, lemme know." Octavia began for the door, hoping a little that Crane would stop her to say something more.

"Being my eyes and ears isn't enough?" Sure enough, he spoke.

"The excitement of my job is very up and down with you," Octavia responded, "I need a little more action in my life."

An almost wicked look flashed in Crane's eyes, one that made Octavia wonder if she was about to speak to the Scarecrow again (and admittedly, her chest tightened just slightly at the thought).

"Action, hmm?" She could immediately tell he had something in mind that certainly wouldn't make her happy, "I have one more task you could assist with—collecting the drug users and bringing them back to me."

For an instant, Octavia was stunned. Though she knew this was the kind of person Crane was, she was nonetheless surprised he'd ask this of _her_.

Octavia laughed dryly, "You're kidding me."

Jonathan gave her a nearly surprised expression, "And why would I be?"

"Look, Crane, even I draw a line sometimes," she started while crossing her arms, "and my line is bringing you test subjects."

"So, you have morals after all." The man's expression conveyed a slight amusement.

"My moral code may be gray, but _that_ doesn't sit well with me."

By now, all her playfulness and fluttering heart was gone, back to a serious front.

 _'After all, he's some kind of crazy…'_ Octavia thought, reminding herself not to let a criminal be the person that made her heart beat a little faster.

"If you try to ask that of me again, I won't be back to help with any job—and we both know how much you'd miss me."

"We both also know how much you'd miss _me_." Crane's eyes were a little darker, though the amused smirk on his lips could be deceiving, "Two can play in this game of emotions, Ms. Baresi."

At detecting the provoking nature in his tone, she couldn't help but smirk, _'I'm going to hell…'_

"Sounds like a challenge," she moved to stand in front of him exigently, "We'll see who wins."

 **Now that's my kind of fun…**

* * *

"See how much easier this is now that we have phone?" Octavia grinned into the disposable phone as she walked down a business street.

 _"Starting to feel lazy?"_ Jonathan countered on the other end, _"How will you get your daily dose of sunshine and fresh air without your visit to me?"_

"Shut it." she nearly laughed, "What do ya want, Crane?"

 _"Your presence—we're meeting with the Chechen tomorrow evening, I'd like you to be a back up security measure."_

"Why?" Octavia entered a busy coffee shop and joined the line of other patrons on their phones.

 _"There's been a growing concern regarding the Batman's presence in this city—petty criminals and even the mob are getting scared."_

"As they should be—none of them are smart enough for that guy." After a minute, the young woman order her drink and found a table to wait at, "Are you _scared_?"

Her amused tone made Jonathan roll his eyes, _"Scared and concerned are two different things—I don't need him ruining my business, so you'll serve as back up. Both in the case of the mob acting out and if the Batman makes an appearance."_

"So from now on I go to, what, intimidate Batman?" She nearly scoffed as she eyed the room cautiously, sure that no one was listening in on the discussion.

 _"If you think you could…"_

"Well, it sounds like that's what I'm going for." She grinned, "We sure as hell can't let anyone see me there with you, or else Maroni'll have my ass."

 _"Of course, you'll be hidden unless we have unexpected trouble. If anything happens, then I'll need you to step in."_

"Where are we meeting?" Octavia finally left with coffee in hand.

 _"Come to the boathouse, I want us both to go check the place out first."_

"Oh, a date with Dr. Crane, be still my heart." Octavia dryly laughed at her own joke.

 _"Charming…"_ She could easily detect his amusement, even as he tried to mask it.

"I'm on my way now, don't get too dolled up for me."

* * *

"Well, that went off without a hitch, and I nearly fell asleep in the process." Octavia joked as the group entered the boathouse. She could practically feel the men in the room roll their eyes at her as she leaned against the far wall near the abandoned row boat. She watched Jonathan as he counted out their cash, separating it into piles while his guards unloaded the couple of boxes from the van before waiting around for Crane to finish.

"Barton," Jonathan turned to the man as he held out a stack of bills, "I want you and Kito back out in the Narrows tonight." He nodded to the second man in question while also handing off his pay, "You two are free to go." He said to his last two men while giving them their cut of the cash. The group began to walk out as Jonathan's eyes settled on Octavia, who gave a smirk.

"Have a late night task for me, _boss_?" She mocked while pushing off of the wall. Jonathan quirked an eyebrow as she straightened her pile of bills.

"Eager to stick around?" He questioned as he held it out to her.

Octavia took her cut and stopped in front of Jonathan for a moment, "If that's your way of asking me on another date…"

The man narrowed his eyes at her smirk, "The more you suggest dates, the more I suspect that's something you want out of me."

In response, Octavia held up her hands as if in surrender, "Guess that's a 'no.'"

 _'Too much, I guess…'_ She thought, though she knew a date with Jonathan wasn't exactly what she was interested in.

Octavia began to turn for the door and Jonathan crossed his arms as he watched her with interest.

 **Letting her leave so soon, Johnny?**

 _And since when do you want her around?_ His eyebrows furrowed just slightly at his counterpart.

 **I don't, but I know you always do.**

Jonathan sighed, "Ms. Baresi." Octavia couldn't help the self satisfied expression on her face as she halted.

"Just hate to see me go…" She said while turning back around.

"Don't let it go to your head." His gaze moved from her to his lab equipment on the table behind him thoughtfully, "You say you failed chemistry in school?"

Octavia nearly laughed, "Crane, I almost didn't get to graduate."

"Surprising, for someone of your intelligence." He quirked an eyebrow.

"I didn't 'apply myself.'" She replied with air quotes and a scoff, "Let's just say my interests weren't books and passing exams."

"Would you like to learn some chemistry?" He asked almost earnestly.

Octavia smiled, "Are you just looking to show off?"

"Does it have your attention?"

After a moment of simply looking at each other in mirth, Octavia finally shrugged, "Fine, Mr. Doctor Man, you got me." She walked back toward him as Jonathan motioned for her to take the chair beside him before he went to grab a second one for himself.

Once the two were side-by-side, Jonathan straightened his glasses and flattened out a page in his large notebook. Octavia's green eyes followed him for a few minutes while he grabbed various chemicals and moved about his equipment. Octavia couldn't help but yawn, both from boredom and because it was easily much past midnight.

"Now I remember why I failed that damn class twice…" She said, stretching her arms above her head as Jonathan gave a small side scowl.

 **Maybe what you should be teaching her are manners.** The Scarecrow laughed mockingly as Jonathan set down what he was holding.

"Any class you didn't fail, Ms. Baresi?"

The question made her smile in amusement as she suppressed a laugh, "Gym class."

Jonathan rolled his eyes while smirking, "Why does that not surprise me?"

"And art," Octavia furrowed her brow after a moment, "though, I was always flirting with the teacher…" Her gaze that fell on him was suggestive, "Maybe I should've tried that with the chem teacher, too."

"Always been troublesome, haven't you?" Jonathan replied what both he and the Scarecrow were thinking, though the latter was thinking something much more suggestive.

"It's what got me this far." She replied pridefully, "And _that's_ what'll keep me successful."

"Hmm…" Jonathan hummed in doubt as he turned back to his work.

Octavia studied his profile as he silently worked, unabashedly admiring his features. She'd known since first setting eyes on his photo that Crane was attractive, that she wouldn't deny. What she may attempt to deny, however, was that now she felt attracted to him. She was certainly not too proud of herself for that—sure, she was a risk taker, but even Octavia knew the trouble of becoming attached to jobs and clients. Especially if that person was a wanted criminal.

But Octavia told herself she wasn't attached—just attracted. Two very different things. Besides, maybe she was only starting to feel attracted to Jonathan because it'd been weeks since she last had sex, and that was certainly a pastime she was missing.

 _'Gotta get myself into some ritzy party or club and find someone…'_ She thought, finally taking her eyes off of Jonathan.

"As exciting as it is to sit and watch you," she started while getting to her feet, "I need sleep. So either I go home or, if you're that desperate for my company-"

"Not as desperate as you, it would appear." He interrupted with an amused smirk on his lip, "You've not been as subtle as you may think."

Though momentarily taken aback, Octavia crossed her arms defiantly, "What is it you think I'm desperate for?"

Jonathan gave her an almost knowing look before turning back to his work, "Good night, Ms. Baresi."

"Ouch…" She scoffed before heading out the door.

 **You just passed up on some real fun, you know that, Johnny? Hell, even I wouldn't complain to take some time out of our night for _that_.**

"I'm certainly not in the mood for that kind of complication with her." Jonathan replied almost boredly.

 **Will you be in the mood soon?** Jonathan rolled his eyes, trying to just focus back on his work, **Come _on_ , obviously you want her around. Might as well put that body of hers to some use.**

Jonathan's jaw clenched, "Do you want her around or not? Because right now you're making it impossible to tell which." His tone was a little harsh, "You can't keep swinging between hate and want."

 **Yes we can.** The Scarecrow replied simply, **_You're_ the one that wants her around, I'm just suggesting we _do_ something if you're gonna keep her, otherwise what's the fucking point?**

 _The point is… she's my friend._ Jonathan admitted, almost to his own surprise. It was that comment that dampered the Scarecrow's mood, however.

 ** _Friend_? Really?** His voice was a little darker, **Johnny, we don't have time for friends. The amount of time you waste with her is too much as it is. Stay focused.**

For a few long moments, Jonathan sat thoughtfully. Friendship was something he rarely came by, and now that he had it, he wasn't quite sure if he was ready to let go of that so soon.

 _I guess I'm only human after all._

The Scarecrow sighed, **Great, so you're not gonna do anything about her?**

 _Ms. Baresi stays._

 **Then maybe I have to take care of it…**

Jonathan wasn't fond of the nature of his counterpart's tone, knowing there'd probably soon be a bit of trouble he'd have to deal with.

* * *

 **As a writer, I have this terrible habit of writing short little blips of plot and then haphazardly trying to piece them together to create the story. Have you noticed? It's a challenge once I have to go back and edit everything, only to realize it doesn't always make complete sense. So, if the last half of this chapter seemed odd, that's why haha.**

 **I look forward to hearing everyone's thoughts! Things are certainly happening between Octavia and Jonathan, surely something interesting has to happen soon...**


	14. Thirteen: Strappa le Ali d'una Farfalla

**Wow, took me long enough, right? I was struggling to find the right way to end this chapter, but ultimately I realized there was no more adding to itーthe chapter seemed to just want to end the way it does.**

 **On another note, I made a playlist for Octavia and Jonathan! It was really the only thing that inspired me enough to get back to this story. Check it out on** **8tracks:** **/warohl/poison-girl (I also drop a link to the spotify playlist as well in my profile!). I also made a tumblr post to reblog it if anyone so wishes, the link to it can be found on my fanmix. This playlist took a lot more metal/gothic turn than I expected it to originally, but I guess it is what it is lol.**

 **Hope you guys love this chapter and the playlist!**

 **UPDATE**

 **Forgot to make a shout out to my fave TheWinter'sRose because some of this chapter was sort of loosely inspired by a discussion we had, so thanks for giving me ideas on how to make this story better! It's probably not all that obvious, but let's see if you can maybe figure out what I'm referring to...**

* * *

Kito gave an almost condescending smirk when Octavia entered the boathouse. Her expression was quizzical as she looked around the space, realizing that Crane was nowhere in sight. Her gaze fell back onto the smug looking man.

"What're you doing here without Crane?" She questioned as Kito's mocking smirk grew.

"Were you hoping for some alone time with your boyfriend?" He nearly laughed, though he was quickly shut up by the sound of something metallic whizzing past his head. With dangerous eyes he looked behind him to find a large pocket knife upon the table. He gave a harsh glare while turning back to face the woman, "The fuck is wrong with you!?"

Octavia simply rolled her eyes as she slowly approached him, "The lack of respect from you men is just appalling." She said much too casually as she reached to pick up her pocket knife, briefly pointing it at the man with a patronizing grin, "Now, where's Crane?"

She stepped back from Kito with arms crossed as he continued to glare. After a moment though, he caved, "Over at that old paper manufacturing warehouse." At the raised eyebrow Octavia gave, he elaborated, "He's, uh… with a subject."

Octavia looked a little surprised, eyes turning in the general direction of the building in question. She felt unease creep into her, though she nearly scoffed at herselfーit seemed that thoughts of the Scarecrow would have this effect on her for a while longer. She knew she had to come to terms with Jonathan's experiments and the Scarecrow if she planned on sticking around, though.

Octavia decidedly looked back to Kito for a brief instant before turning to leave the boathouse without another word. She quickly marched over to the nearby warehouse, determined to find Crane and see for herself what he was up to. Maybe then she would feel less stupid for not being more cautious about him.

After a few minutes of searching, Octavia finally found an unlocked door into the abandoned building, entering quietly while taking in the poorly lit surroundings. Quickly, she found her way to a room with windows that allowed the natural light to stream in; it was long and looked to have once been a production room. Octavia remained quiet, listening for any indicator of Jonathan's location.

 _'If I were Crane, which way would I go?'_ She looked to the various doors and hallways, trying to determine her next step. She then recalled their cell phones, wondering if the man had thought to have it on him. It was worth a try, though, so she pulled it from her pocket and called the number. Octavia waited quietly, hoping that maybe she'd hear the echo of Crane's phone in the distance. But after only two and a half rings, the call was cut off, much to her annoyance. Briefly, she considered just turning back and dealing with him laterーafter all, she knew the reasonable part of her didn't want to see what was going on. But the insatiably curious part of her couldn't help but stay.

About five minutes passed before Octavia could finally hear a woman's voice nearby and followed it with a furrowed brow. For a brief instant, she was stopped on the other side of a door, listening to the cries and pleas from the woman inside the room. An unsettled shiver ran up her spin before she placed her hand to the doorknob and threw the door open.

Immediately, Octavia could pick up on how tense the energy of the room quickly became. Jonathan stood tall, back to her as he faced a blonde, middle-aged woman who let out another scream at the new face in the room. With almost scared eyes, Octavia stared back at her, wondering how she was appearing in the woman's eyes.

"It's quite rude to interrupt, Ms. Baresi.." Crane's voice was a growl as his back remained turned to her. For a few moments longer, her eyes stayed locked with the crying woman's, feeling a twinge of sympathyーafter all, this woman was random and unsuspecting, and Octavia certainly drew the line on innocent people being experimented on. And having been under the same toxin's influence before, she couldn't help but be concerned.

Octavia's eyes moved to stare at Crane's back, trying to find the right words to say. Why the hell did she even come here knowing that she'd find something she didn't want to see? Her logical side knew this would be a mistake from the start, and yet, stupidly enough, she persisted. Sometimes she hated her own curiosity.

"Do you plan to just stand there…" His tone was dark as Crane turned his head; though his expression was hidden by the mask, Octavia could already tell that this was the Scarecrow. There was something far darker and much more imposing about him, "or was there a purpose to your visit?"

Octavia could see the menacing glare in his azure eyes as the woman continued protesting against whatever the toxin was showing her. Octavia was sure the Scarecrow could see the hesitation rising in herーshe recalled their first meeting all those months ago, when she had experienced that fear toxin for herself. The memory left her wildly unsettled, causing her to finally avert her gaze.

"What, don't like what you see?" Each of the Scarecrow's mocking words were harrowing and low, and with a glare Octavia turned from him, preparing to leave the room. But Crane moved incredibly fast, crossing the room in a few long strides to roughly secure a hold on her upper arm. This action, of course, caused a fire to alight in Octavia, and her glare darkened as she met his eyes through the mask.

"Crane, _let go_ of me." Her tone was harsh, and in that moment she wasn't afraid of the Scarecrow. As she shook off his arm, however, his opposite hand shot up, toxin suddenly misting from his sleeve straight into her face. Octavia gasped, eyes widening as the Scarecrow grabbed hold of her cheek possessively, fingertips digging into her skin.

"You need to let loose a little…" She could hear the smirk in his voice as her vision began to warp, her eyes remaining locked with his fearfully, instinctively searching for the familiar gaze of Jonathan as if somehow he could help her.

As the Scarecrow's hold remained on her face, he backed Octavia up until her back collided roughly against the wall. Octavia stumbled over her feet, nearly falling to the floor if it weren't for the man's hold on her.

And then she felt themーsnakes slowly winding their way up her ankles and calves, causing Octavia to gasp and breath to stutter, the sound of her heart rate accelerating in her ears. With wide eyes, she looked around, seeing snakes coming from every direction, moving slowly as if to mock her fear. When she whipped her head back to to face the Scarecrow, his eyes were leaking darkness, stitched mouth twisting and turning as he seemed to move with the snakes.

"It's not real…" She choked out, which caused the Scarecrow to laugh cruelly.

"Is it not?" His voice ws a deep, primal growl, echoing in her head, "You know full well what we were doing here, and you showed up anywayーyou practically handed yourself over to me."

Octavia yelped as she felt a snake wrap around her neck, its tongue flickering against her hot skin. The Scarecrow leaned in closer as tears welled in her eyes.

"Go on, cryーin fact, _scream_. You know just how much I _love_ that." His tone was biting as the snakes encompassed Octavia, keeping her planted where she was. She began to shake and hyperventilate.

"Crane…" Her own voice sounded like a distant, pathetic echo, and the new, snake-like Scarecrow chuckled again.

"Still hoping he'll save you?" Octavia's chest felt heavy as he pushed against her, "Still have your little crush? _Pathetic_." He suddenly threw her down, causing Octavia to scream as every snake raced toward her, slithering across her body, "I _am_ Crane."

Octavia continued screaming out, trying to wrestle away from the masses of serpents, but to no avail. Scarecrow's menacing laugh reverberated around her and through her as he appeared over her, cocking his head while leaning down just slightly. She felt trapped by his black gaze as he focused in and out of vision.

" _Regret this yet?_ "

She yelled out again as a snake tightened around her throat.

* * *

The Scarecrow wasn't sure how much time had passed before his two subjects exhausted themselves in their hysteria. The first woman managed to pass out much too quickly for his taste. Octavia, though, was quite the fighterーonce she moved past the initial shock, she kept trying to fight off everything she was seeing, even through the crying and yelling. Even at the end, when she was so tired she could barely move, he heard her every now and again attempt to reassure herself that none of it was real.

 **A little firecracker, huh.** The Scarecrow mused as he finally allowed Crane back into the saddle. The man stood over Octavia once more, slowly removing his mask as his gaze shone with a degree of concern.

 _Why are you so against her?_ Jonathan studied the woman's soft expression.

 **You're better than these feelings, Johnny. We don't need anyone, not even her.** The Scarecrow lowly chuckled, **Remember the last prevalent women in your life? Sherry? _Keeny_?** The second name he spat out with venom, **I'm just protecting you from yourself.**

Jonathan's jaw slightly clenched before he let out a sighーhe felt as if he moved on from his past a while ago, though, of course, he was still scarred and occasionally hurt by the memories of it.

A part of Jonathan wanted to reach down toward Octavia, but he refrainedーthis amount of concern wasn't normal for him, and he was well are of it. He didn't entirely know how he wanted to behave anymore, but nothing he chose even felt quite right.

 _We both know she's not like them._ Finally, he turned for the doorーhe couldn't just leave these woman lying around, so he had to go get Kito to help collect them.

 **Everyone's the same: against you. She may be fun to have around now, but just wait. You know how these things end… I can't believe you're starting to have feelings for her.**

 _As I recall, you were the one interested in her first._

 **You have needs, I was just helping.** The Scarecrow defended, **Don't deny you had some fun watching her scream.**

Jonathan shook his head as he entered the boathouse, finding Kito sat with a magazine in hand.

"I have a task for you." Jonathan spoke professionally, indicating for the other man to follow him.

When they reentered to warehouse room, Kito gave a surprised look to Crane at the sight of Octavia unconscious on the floor. He and the other guys were so sure that something was going on between the two, but now Kito thought maybe those assumptions were false.

"Drop these two off," Jonathan started, eyes boring into the other man's to ensure his instructions were understood, "Make sure Ms. Baresi gets back home safely. Don't try anything funny with her or her apartment, understood?"

"What about the other one?"

Crane waved his hand dismissively, "Does it matter?"

Kito watched as his boss exited the room, quizzically looking back toward Octavia.

 _'The fuck kind of relationship is this?'_

* * *

Octavia awoke to the sound of her phone ringing, groaning in frustration as she rolled over into her pillows. Ever since her second encounter with the fear toxin two days ago, she'd felt anxious and exhaustedーshe needed some time to herself. So, she chose to ignore the ringing until it ended, hoping whoever it was wouldn't try calling again.

When she had first realized what Crane did, she wanted to yell in frustrationーafter all, the two were making so much progress in growing closer, and his toxin certainly led that to an abrupt halt.

The Scarecrow complicated things, however. He was obviously in control at the time, but he also reminded her about one key elementーhe _was Crane_. As much as she may have wanted to differentiate them (and as different as they may have been), they were still one man.

Her heart hurt just thinking about it.

Was she crazy enough to stick around? Octavia wished the answer was 'no.' But she was fucked up in her own ways, and that part of her wanted to stayーthat part of her wanted to prove the Scarecrow wrong, and that part of her enjoyed the company of someone else that was equally, and more, fucked up.

Then again, there had to be other fucked up people out there that wouldn't drug her. This was Gotham, after all. Every other person you met was at least a little fucked up.

* * *

A couple nights later, Octavia heard a knock on her front door, causing her to steal a look to the desk clockーit was after 11 PM, but she wasn't expecting Brea until about midnight, after her shift ended. Octavia was suspicious, though she told herself to stop being so paranoidーmaybe it was just a slow night and her friend left work early.

Octavia flipped her laptop closed as there was a second knock on the door, causing her to sigh as she got to her feet and walked to the entrance. When she peeked through the peephole, however, Octavia nearly chokedーthere stood Jonathan, all too casually, looking a little impatient. Though she didn't want to speak to the man right now, she certainly didn't want him to be seen by any of her neighbors either, so she flung open the door and gave him an angered, reprimanding glare.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She grabbed hold of the lapel on his jacket and pulled him inside, slamming the door behind her.

"Well, it's been four days, I thought to check on you…" He eyed her apartment all too casually.

"Check on me?" Her tone was defensive, "You _drugged_ me. _Again_. I don't want to be near you."

Jonathan turned a serious eye on her, "Why were you there that afternoon, Octavia?"

The woman felt frozen as she met his gaze; something about the way he said her first name made the moment all the more serious, like this was a conversation between friends and not business associates.

Octavia sighed, "I still don't know."

Jonathan's eyebrow quirked as he stepped closer, "You wanted to see me," he started while leaning over her, making Octavia attempt to back away, "Even though you knew _exactly_ what I was doing, you still went looking. Either this is curiosity or feelings, though I'd bet it was both."

Octavia' expression gave way to everything she was feelingーconflict regarding her feelings, anxiety for being near Crane again. She maintained eye contact, and Jonathan could see how fragile she was feeling. So, he took a large step back, giving her more of the space she needed. After a few long moments, he turned to walk further into the room.

Then, an interesting thought crossed Octavia.

"How should I interpret you showing up hereーcuriosity or feelings?" She gave him a challenging look, voice lowering slightly, "I'd bet it was both."

A smirk tugged at Jonathan's lips before he laughed shortly.

"What a pair we make." He began to move around her space, Octavia's eyes following him curiously as she noticed an almost longing tugging at her heart. She sighed and shook her head.

"This isn't me forgiving you, Crane." She crossed her arms as he halted, "That day really fucked up our potential friendship, you know that."

A hurt look seemed to flash in Jonathan's eyes for a brief instant, surprising the young woman. But he turned away, not giving her the time to ponder his expression for too long.

"Should I assume that means we are no longer working together?"

Octavia slightly shrugged, "Dependsーis the Scarecrow going to drug me anymore?"

Jonathan took a calm step forward, shaking his head, "I'm working on that; admittedly, I like having you around."

"It's not enough just to like my companyーI don't want to be at any more risk than I already am around you."

For a few long moments, the pair was silent and thoughtful. Finally, Crane sat himself down on her couch.

"Are we friends, Ms. Baresi?" The woman nearly 'aww'ed at the innocence of his tone, though the question managed to confuse her.

"Are we?" She repeated, and Jonathan gave an expectant look, "Maybe in some fucked up way we are…"

He took her by surprise as he flashed a small, genuine smileーnot mocking or confident like nearly every other moment before. Though it was brief, the expression still managed to warm her heart just a little. Jonathan was being much softer than Octavia was used to, and she was practically ready to forgive him then and there. But she had to be resilientーgiving in so easy would make him think everything was fine, which it certainly wasn't.

She sighed, "Crane, you need to go." She motioned toward the door as the man gave a questioning look, "I have plans."

"Plans?" He raised an eyebrow as he began to make assumptions, "At this hour, they must be something venereal."

Octavia rolled her eyes, "If they were, why would you care?"

"Who makes plans at midnight if not for sex?" He countered.

"My friend works late nights… Now, please leave before she gets here."

"We're not done with this conversation," Jonathan replied as he stood, "This is a particularly convenient excuse to avoid our discussion…"

Octavia sighed, about to speak, but, as if on cue, there was a knock at the front door, " _Shit_." She hissed, quickly moving to grab Jonathan again and tug him toward her bedroom, "Look, just hide out for a couple of minutes until we leave, okay?" She then reached into one of the drawers on her jewelry box, pulling out a key, "Just lock the door behind you. And I better get that key back."

Quickly, she left the room, and Jonathan listened as she opened the door and made quick conversation with her friend.

 _'What has my life become?'_ Octavia wondered as she glanced back into her apartment one last time.

* * *

 **So much happens in this chapter, wow? Octavia is being dumb and Jonathan is being emotional, what will happen next? Please leave a review, let me know what you think! I'd love to chat about all the happenings from this last chapter!**


	15. Fourteen: Anima a Fuoco

**And we're back again! This next chapter begins the next sort of arc to this story, so I hope you all enjoy what's upcoming!**

* * *

Even after the discussion Octavia had with Jonathan, she still needed some space from the boathouse. She knew already she was fucked up enough to go back to the job (more specifically, back to Jonathan), but that didn't mean she was quite ready to return as if nothing happened. So, she found other ways to keep busy without going to the boathouse. Aside from her work with Crane, Octavia worked on hunting down a rapist that didn't get chargedーthis job only took her about a day to finish. And the following day, she felt like tagging along with a couple of Crane's goons as they went to the Narrows, curious to see the progress being made with the new toxin.

As she returned home that afternoon, her door was unlocked. It put her on alert, because she would _never_ leave without locking itーevery time she leaves, she would check the lock at least twice. So, she stuck a hand into the bag over her shoulder, fingertips brushing the grip of her gun as she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

She let out a slight sigh, "I gave you that key so that you could get out, not so you could get back in."

Sat on the couch with a book was a smirking Jonathan, whose eyes turned to meet Octavia's gaze, "Well, now you know not to entrust just anyone with a key."

"Now I know…" She muttered while removing her bag and jacket, walking in closer to the man. After a moment of sending him an almost reprimanding gaze, Octavia sat on the coffee table in front of him, and Jonathan continued to stare at the page of his book, even though he was no longer reading it, "So, what's up, doc?"

Jonathan nearly rolled his eyes, though he was obviously a little amused, "That wasn't funny the first time, nor this time, either."

Octavia finally eased, letting go of the key situation, "It was a little funny." She relaxed, peering at the book he held, "What led you to letting yourself into my apartment again?"

"Company." Jonathan answered simply, and Octavia raised an eyebrow.

"Company?"

Jonathan peered over his glasses to meet her curious green eyes, "Well, that's what friends do, is it not?"

The young woman gave a surprised grin, "You certainly are trying for this friend thing; I'm flattered."

"Consider this my effort at an apology for how things have been recently." He paused as he thought on his next words, "Decidedly, I want you to continue to stick around through the coming weeks."

Octavia, though glad for the talk, couldn't help but remain surprised, "What brought this on?"

Jonathan decided to forget his book for the time being, setting it aside giving full attention to Octavia, "Well, things are going to be changing and maybe I'm feeling a little… bolder."

She smiled at the statement, "If you are gonna be running this city's crime circle, that's probably a good traitーmakes you less predictable."

"I certainly took you by surprise." Now, the man was grinning some as well, "That's a sure sign I could surprise anyone now."

Octavia 'hmm'ed at his comment as she peered around her home for a moment before spotting what looked to be a briefcase sat by Jonathan's feet and nodded toward it, "Bring me a gift?"

"Not exactly..." He replied with promise in his tone, almost eager to share as he picked up the bag and opened it, "It's a new formula I've been working on. With things picking up nicely in the Narrows, I've started moving into my plans for the mob turf."

"Really?" Octavia's curiosity was peaked as he showed her a few vials and bottles. She took one from his hand, inspecting the contents.

"People work quickly in this city, Octavia." The woman's brow furrowed slightlyーwere they now officially on a first name basis? Though a little staggered, it managed to warm her nonetheless, "If I don't make my moves soon, something will surely get in my way quickly enough. I want to run the mobs, I don't want to just sell them drugs when it's convenientーand to run the mobs, I have to be both smarter and faster than the bosses."

"Valid point." Octavia leaned back onto her palms, giving Crane a quick up-down, "What happens after you have the mobs in check?"

"We work on stopping Harvey Dent and the Batmanーthey'll be the only things left to stop me from taking this city."

"Oh, ambitious." Octavia gave a grin, looking away for a few moments to gaze back down at the bag of his toxin, "Should I worry about what the Scarecrow has in store?"

"Depends; are you going to be trouble for me?" Jonathan smirked slightly.

"Only the good kind of trouble." She joked as she met his eyes again.

"Then maybe good things will be in store, so long as everything goes according to plan."

As Jonathan turned back to his toxins, Octavia watched him almost fondly. Of course, she realized how she must look, so she quickly tried to shake the expressionーshe certainly didn't want Crane to catch her with such a look in her eyes. It was bad enough as it is that she'd even look at him that way to begin with, she could only imaging the psychoanalyzing that would follow.

"Something on your mind?" Jonathan jeered as if he was privy to exactly what she was thinking.

"Nothin' that's your business." She covered, quickly moving on, "So, who's this potential new toxin for?"

"The Chechen," Jonathan replied as he continued working, "We're going to move in on his customers tonight and try this out, tease him a little with it."

Octavia's expression was slightly doubtful, "How do you plan to move in on his territory and not get killed?"

"I've planned ahead," Jonathan replied vaguely, "Worry about me a little lessーall this is going to happen very soon."

The pair fell into a comfortable silence as Octavia moved off of the coffee table and walked to her kitchen to grab an iced coffee from her fridge. She paused as she was about to close the door, deciding to snag a second one for her friend and soon returned to sit beside him. Jonathan had just picked up his book again when he looked at her curiously as she held the drink out toward him.

"It's just coffee, it won't kill ya." She set the drink into his hand as she leaned back into the cushion, "I gotta ask, Craneーwhat do you gain from controlling the mobs?" Octavia crossed her arms, "You don't strike me as the type that wants to be running drug rings and peddling in petty crime the rest of your life."

"Power, survival, knowledge…" he quirked an eyebrow, "I don't care about their money or drugs or any other useless junk those men already have. Having the safety of the mobs gives more freedom to continue my experiments, gives me the kind of security I need to remain in Gotham without arrest. It's survival of the fittest in this town, and I fully intend to be that."

 _'Good fucking answer.'_ Octavia thought on his words for a few moments.

"So, where do I fit in all of this?"

Jonathan's lower lip jutted just slightly as he considered her question, "Everyone needs a companion, even a man like me."

Octavia's smile returned as their eyes remained locked for a short while, before finally she turned away, feeling heat creep up her neck just so.

"Someone's becoming a softy," she joked, "is that thanks to me?"

Jonathan noted a slight trace of tension in her voice as she made effort to relax the moodーsomething about the slight slip into a serious tone of their conversation bothered her, that he could tell.

 **Yeah, you're making him soft as shit.** The Scarecrow's tone was annoyed, causing Jonathan, in turn, to sigh.

 _Don't start._

 **Or what, you'll ground me?** The Scarecrow laughed mockingly as he rose his voice, **Please don't make her my new step-mom, dad, I swear I'll be good.**

 _Dare I ask what would make you just tolerate her?_

There was a long pause, as if the darker counterpart was in deep consideration (though they both knew that wasn't true).

 **How about we fuck her.**

Jonathan rolled his eyes, an action that didn't go unmissed by Octavia. When he didn't reply to her question, she'd already reasoned he was somewhere in his own headーthe almost blank expression on his face up until that point was further proof.

Curiously, she raised an eyebrow, "Having a good time in there?"

When Jonathan's eyes met Octavia's, his thoughts immediately trained on the Scarecrow's last comment, much to his annoyance. He felt slightly flustered as he looked at his companion, though he attempted to cover it up.

 **Oh, come on, you gonna act like we're back in high school and let a girl make you nervous?**

"My apologies…" Jonathan said simply, pretending nothing had happened as he collected himself and looked back to his book, "Make sure you're ready for tonightーit's important we get this toxin out now."

Octavia's brows furrowed as Jonathan turned awayーwhatever happened with the Scarecrow certainly left him just a little frazzled. But the woman accepted that this was probably the end of their conversation for the time being and stood to go find her own activity to keep occupied.

* * *

"So, what's the next move, Crane?" Octavia questioned once they returned late that evening to the boathouse, "The Chechen has the drugs, so what's next?"

"For now, we wait," Jonathan replied as Kito and the others finished their work and left the building. Octavia settled onto one of the chairs, "We should expect to hear from him within a couple of days once he realizes what I've done. When we meetーand there certainly will be a confrontationーwe'll have to be cautious."

"Well, yeah, he may try to kill ya on the spot." Octavia replied, a trace of concern in her tone, "More likely, he'll want to drag you in front of all the mob bosses in some mock trial bullshit, but there's still possibility he'll just shoot without thinking."

"I've prepared for that outcomeーthe mob won't be getting their hands on me that easily." Jonathan's gaze was nearly cocky as he gave a slight smirk, "Besides, we'll be the one's to shoot firstーwe're going to kill the Chechen next we see him."

Octavia's face belayed shock as she sat up a little straighter, "You're crazy."

Jonathan nodded almost carelessly, "Yes, many would agree with that."

"Crane, I know killing isn't really your style, so why now? Wouldn't you rather take him for experiments? If you kill him, his men kill you on the spot."

"Give me some credit, Octavia," the man's tone became a little harsh, nearly offended by her lack of faith, "I _have_ thought this through. We'll have he and his men vulnerable, then nothing can be done against us. Killing is the mob's languageーI use the Chechen as a way to show I can stoop to their level, to rattle everyone up. Once that's taken care of, I move in and take the Chechnya territories; we'll save the toxin and experimenting for Gambol and Maroni."

"You make it sound a lot simpler than it is," Octavia stood, eyes roaming the boathouse thoughtfully.

"Because it is simple, others have just been too afraid to try it. Besides, if someone ever were to try to take over this city's mobs, it may as well be me."

For a few moments, the young woman let their discussion sink inーshe knew Jonathan was pretty much a genius, of course he had to have been planning this for much longer than she was involved. The simple difference was that now he was confiding in her with the information, almost as if she were his right hand. She took a deep breath, realizing that, yes, Jonathan was certainly the best possible candidate of everyone to steal the mobs out from under the noses.

"Your citizen approval rating won't be quite so high." Octavia finally spoke, giving the man a small grin, "Though, you're certainly easier on the eyes than the rest of those guys…"

Jonathan quirked an eyebrow, "Oh?"

In return, Octavia glared just slightly, "Don't start." She turned her back as the man smirked, her eyes finding their map of Gotham, "So, there a timeline to this plan of yours?"

"I imagine the Chechen will be dead before the week is up." Crane replied simply, and the realization of how serious he was gave Octavia pause. This was not simply some minor change, after all, this was mob dynamics taking a drastic shift, a change that surely wasn't going to be met with open arms.

"When Maroni finds out, he'll catch onto your planーhe'll do anything to stop it." She walked to stand in front of Jonathan, who swiftly stood much to her surprise. His gaze was one of cool determination as he stared down at her.

"Then we'll just have to be faster than the mob." For a few moments longer, they stood silently as those words sunk in.

Finally, Octavia cracked a smile, "Will I get to be the Chechen to your Maroni?"

"If you behave, perhaps." Jonathan teased, much to his own surprise, realizing that perhaps Octavia's nature was rubbing off on him a little.

With that comment, the woman couldn't help but blush slightly, taken aback by the suggestion and temerarious in Jonathan's words. And she could see his smirk grow a little larger, knowing full well what thoughts his words put in her head. But Octavia couldn't let him have that final word, and so boldly she took one step forward, their chests nearly bumping as she quirked an eyebrow, "And are you going to be the one to put me in my place, then?"

She could feel her heart beating a little faster as she stepped back, eyes suggestive as he made for the door.

* * *

"Did you catch the news, Crane?" Octavia asked upon entering the boathouse. Tonight they had a last minute meeting per request of the Chechen; the young woman was quite sure that the mobster gained word on Jonathan's tampering with their last batch and the Chechen certainly wasn't happy about it.

Jonathan's eyes looked away from his work at the sound of her voice. Since hearing from the Chechen early that day, Jonathan had remained shockingly nonchalant to his men; after all, they weren't aware that the Scarecrow had planned for this. He was simply waiting, killing time before the meeting approached.

"I haven't exactly had time for the news." He replied, though the woman's excited expression certainly peaked his interest. So, he sat back in his seat with arms crossed, ready for Octavia's story.

"You know about that guy leavin' joker cards at crime scenes?"

"Vaguely."

Octavia smirked, "He just pulled a huge fuckin' stuntーrobbed a _mob_ bank." her eyes were gleaming with wicked amusement, "The best part is that the asshole wears _clown_ make-up." She almost laughed again, "What is it with this fuckin' city? Bats, clowns… scarecrows." Octavia gave him a teasing look.

Jonathan's brow was furrowed slightly in thoughtーif this clown was trying to get the mobs' attention, that could either give Jonathan the kind of opening he needed or completely derail his plans. He could take advantage of the situation, depending on the direction of circumstances.

"And that's not the only newsーapparently Maroni's gonna be going to court for some bullshit, and he's gonna have to deal with that new district attorney. Things might be starting to fall apart for him already."

"All of this happening at once…" Jonathan's tone was almost questioning.

"Guess that's what they call karma." Octavia replied with a shrug before taking a seat beside Crane, "We'll haveta be ready to think on our toesーwho knows what's gonna be happening between all this shit."

"I'm certain we can more than manage." Jonathan gave another confident look to his companion, "Tonight, we taunt not only the Chechen, but all the mobs, best be on our A game."

He then stood, motioning for Octavia to follow as they made for the door. Outside, the goons were ready and waiting, and Jonathan gave the woman one final look.

"Put on your game face." She said, giving a slight smile, "Catch ya there."

* * *

As per usual, Octavia arrived to the meeting spot first. This time around, they were meeting with the Chechen in a parking structure, one that they had frequented a number of times before, so the young woman was more than familiar with it. She knew Crane would arrive in only a few minutes, so quickly Octavia parked her motorcycle a couple floors below and collected the weapons she brought with her.

Not even ten minutes later, she met the familiar white van on the fifth level. Crane briefly stepped out.

"You know the routine," he started, a hint of eagerness in his tone as he pulled his mask from his jacket pocket, "stay hidden, notice everything, and only jump in if you have to."

"The same dull procedure." Octavia gave a mocking grin, "We really do need some more excitement in our lives."

Crane huffed an almost laugh, "Be careful what you wish forーtonight could give you exactly that."

"Careful's my middle name." Octavia leaned closer to him, looking him up and down briefly, "Don't get yourself shot, alright?"

And with that, she turned from him and quickly found a spot to hide out at a nearby car. Crane watched her for a few moments longer, an almost fond glint in his eyes.

 **She's making you so fucking soft.**

Crane quickly snapped his gaze away from the woman.

 _Don't be ridiculous._

He climbed back into the van, concealing his face behind the familiar burlap mask.

 **No use trying to hide it from me, JohnnyーI know you better than you do. And you let your guard down with her a little more every day.**

Jonathan simply sighed, awaiting the arrival of the Chechen and his goons; now wasn't the time to get distracted by what the Scarecrow thought of Octavia. He had to be ready to confront the Chechen. He had to be ready to _kill_ the Chechen.

For a short while, they all waited, expectant for the arrival of the mobsters. From Octavia's hiding spot across the parking lot she could watch the ramp for the familiar black SUVs that she knew would soon arrive.

And sure enough, just a couple moments later, two rolled up, tires squealing as they parked some fifteen or so feet from the white van. At her angle, Octavia could see the feet of all the men exiting, though she couldn't clearly see everyone's faces.

Then she heard that familiar Chechnya accent as he seemed to address something the woman hadn't yet taken notice of, "That's why we bring dogs."

Octavia sighedー _again_ with the dogs. The last few meetings between Crane and the Chechen, the foreigner insisted on bringing along Rottweilers for fear that the Batman would show. So far, there'd been no sign of him on Octavia's part, though that's not to say the dark knight hadn't been keeping an eye on mob activity.

Two goons opened the trunks of the SUVs, allowing Octavia to set eyes on the dogs in question. She could then see the Chechen approach, petting one as he muttered something to the animals.

That's when a man was practically dragged out of one of the dark vehicles, "Please!" He whined, his weight being supported by one of the mobsters, "Please, they're crawling in my mouth! Please, I beg you, get 'em off!" he was roughly tossed to the ground as Crane's men all jumped out of their van, weapons raised and ready. Octavia nearly cringed, knowing that this would have to be the final straw for Maroniーnow they had complete proof that Crane was tampering with everyone's drugs, and the mobster would _not_ take well to being lied to for so long. That _and_ Jonathan planned to kill the Chechen? He was certainly asking to start a war with the mobs.

"Look what your drugs do to my customers!" The Chechen sounded fed up, watching as Crane took a step forward in the vehicle.

"Buyers beware…" the Scarecrow started as he finally stepped down into the light, "I told you my new compound would take you placesーI never said they'd be places you wanted to go." Octavia could almost imagine the mischievous grin across the man's face under his mask.

"My business, repeat customers!" Octavia was almost disappointed that she was watching the Chechen from behind, because she imagined his expression was priceless.

"You don't like what I have to offer, you can buy from someone else." Crane said cockily, "Assuming Batman left anyone to buy from."

It was then the Rottweilers began to bark, causing the Chechen and a few others (including Crane and Octavia) to quickly look around in alarm.

"My dogs are _hungry_!" The Chechen called out to the shadows of the parking structure, "Pity there's only _one_ of you!" Curiously, Octavia moved around some of the vehicles to get a clearly look at the action, taking note of Batman's silhouette across the lot.

And then suddenly, a shout came from one of Jonathan's men as he was shoved down by _another_ Batman. Then a yell from one of Maroni's as a third dark knight appeared. In that split second, Octavia moved for more cover, realizing that she didn't want these imposters to see her and attempt taking her out.

She heard a gunshot and the shattering of glass as everything was kicked into motion; men began to shout and run about as she watched it all through the windows of the vehicle she hid behind. Should she jump in now?

No. She spotted Jonathan moving quickly around the white van for the driver's door, and decided to wait it out a short while longer. Nearly everyone in the parking structure had guns raised as the mob men attempted to take cover.

"Loose the dogs!" The Chechen shouted over gunshots, and Octavia watched the creatures begin a mad dash for one of the false Batman's before returning her attention to Crane. Her eyes widened as she saw a few bullets just skim past Jonathan, giving him a slight start.

 _'That lucky ass…'_ She thought as she saw him release his gas on one man that attempted to come up behind him.

And then the Tumbler came crashing over top a wall, nearly knocking down two men in its path. For a brief moment, everyone stopped, turning their attention to the arrival of the real Batman. Octavia's eyes widened, realizing that this was surely to put a roadblock in Jonathan's plans. Now that he was here, suddenly she felt threatened with the fact that he could _actually_ find her, take her down, and stop all the progress they'd been working for; before, it was as if the Batman was in a different, it felt to her as if he could never touch them. Tonight certainly was going to change her perspective.

* * *

 **Well, well, look where we are... The next chapter is going to be great, so leave some reviews, lemme know what you think** ー **it'll motivate me to post that much quicker!**


	16. Fifteen: Lama del rasoio Bacio

**So, I just found out that none of the links want to work on my profile, but if you all go to /tagged/ragazza-veleno on my tumblr (which is also just 'warohl'), you can find my playlist and an Octavia moodboard of sorts.**

 **I've been very excited to share this chapter, I hope everyone enjoys!**

* * *

The Chechen and his men all began to shoot at the Tumbler, which proved to be an aimless cause immediately. For a few _long_ seconds, everything was halted until the Tumbler shot out some kind of explosive dangerously close to Octavia's location, and then another right behind the Chechen's men. After releasing a small yelp, Octavia crawled away from the fire, eyes never leaving the action.

Things began to happen at a rapid pace. The Chechen was climbing into an SUV, Batman was taking down one of his imposters, everyone was running left and right between yells and gunshots. Again, Octavia wondered if she should step in, but she was not even remotely prepared to face the Batman, no matter how well trained she was. And she noted that Jonathan had started up his own van, sending a slight wave of relief through her.

Crane slammed the side of his vehicle into Batman as he whipped it around to attempt an escape, but the dark knight had managed to get a firm grip on the car. As the two drove past, Octavia lost sight of them going down the ramp, and instinctively she jumped up from her hiding spot in a poor attempt to keep an eye on the men. With wide eyes, she looked around for a few moments, eying all of the men scattered around her. She was almost sure that she was unseen, and quickly ducked back down, keeping her cover as she attempted to follow the sound of Jonathan's van. She didn't, however, notice that one of the mobster's had spotted her among the chaos, and he was sure that he had seen her before.

Octavia could still hear Jonathan driving down the ramps as she found herself a new hiding spot, keeping her ears sharp to the sounds of his vehicle; she hated that she couldn't keep an eye on him, but it wasn't as if she could keep up simply by running after him.

And suddenly there was a crash, the sound of shattering glass and bending metal echoing off the walls. Octavia froze, mouth going agape as she wondered what _the fuck_ had just happened.

A few minutes later, Batman was practically dragging Jonathan back toward the group of mostly injured men. By now, the Chechen had made his escape, much to Octavia's annoyance, and a couple others had attempted to as well. Octavia remained hidden as the caped crusader began tying each man up against one wall, lining them up for convenient arrest. When he had finished, he crouched in front of Crane, ripping the mask from over his head to reveal an expression that was more amused than Octavia had expected (if she were in that position, she'd surely look frustrated).

"Don't let me find you out here again." The Batman practically growled to one of the imposters as Octavia quietly began to sneak closer.

"We're trying to help you!" The man retorted as the dark knight began his retreat.

"I don't need help!"

"Not in my diagnosis." Octavia nearly laughed at Crane's remark.

"What gives you the right?" It was obvious the faux Batman was getting frustrated, "What's the difference between you and me?"

By now, the Batman was seated back in his Tumbler, "I'm not wearing hockey pads." And with that final remark, he drove off, leaving behind a group in varying degrees of surprise.

For a minute, Octavia waited, listening as his vehicle disappeared into the city. Once she felt he was at a safe distance, she immediately jumped up.

"You look good in those restraints." She called to Jonathan as she approached, and she could see the grin reappear on his face.

"Where the fuck were you!" One of his henchmen yelled at her before Jonathan could speak, "We're here gettin' our asses kicked and you're fucking hiding out!"

"Unlike some of you _idiots_ , I knew I'd be out of my depth facing the _fucking_ Batman." She replied with a glare as she began to cut at Jonathan's ties, "Besides, now at least some of us can get outta here before getting caught."

Crane remained thoughtfully silent, letting the group have their bickering as Octavia freed his hands and began to assist him to his feet, swiping his mask up off the ground in the process, "The cops are still gonna come after you—they aren't just gonna let Crane fucking walk free."

"What about the rest of us?" Another man jumped in as Octavia and Jonathan began a quick walk from the group, "You just gonna save your boyfriend and fucking ditch the rest of us!?"

For a moment, Octavia halted, considering helping the men. With a sigh, she stepped forward to start at Kito's restraints, but mid-process the sound of police sirens gave her halt. Her gaze met the man's alarmed ones.

"Well, come on!" He urged, but Octavia jumped back to her feet, shaking her head almost as if in apology.

"There's no time," She responded while turning away, "Either I save the guy paying me and get outta here, or I stick around and we all get fucking arrested." She started leading Jonathan to her motorcycle tucked away floors below, hearing the angered voices of the henchmen behind her. Though it wasn't verbalized, both she and Crane knew there was more to this situation than her getting paid, something much deeper than either would be willing to address at the moment.

"We have to get to the boathouse, get as much out as possible—those men are sure to rat out the location of my work." Jonathan started as they climbed onto the motorcycle.

"All we have is this motorcycle, Crane, you won't be able to take much." Octavia reminded as she quickly secured the helmet on top her head.

"Just go." He insisted as Octavia started up the motorcycle and began to speed off.

 _'This is going to be a long fucking night.'_

* * *

When the pair arrived back to the boathouse, Octavia certainly wanted to move quickly, unsure of just how fast the police might get word of their location. Jonathan had to remind her that they'd have more than enough time, that it would take hours before the boathouse's location was revealed to the force. This did only little to help relax her, as she was used to being much more careful than they were tonight.

Octavia tried to help as Jonathan sorted through what was most important to take, but realized that it was best for her to stand back and wait. The man started filling a large bag full of his folders and notebooks, not wanting to lose his years of research; he then grabbed up as much toxin as he could safely fit into the bag, varying in make and dosage. He did a final sweep of the boathouse, knowing that all his equipment had to be left behind—they didn't have the time to find a vehicle and get it back here to take everything. He lastly realized that he certainly needed a couple of changes of clothes, and quickly threw together whatever he could grab.

Jonathan finally turned his attention back to Octavia, who looked a bit impatient as she waited by the door. When she noticed his eyes on her, the woman stood to attention.

"I'm taking you to my apartment—it's the safest place for us right now."

Jonathan nearly laughed as they walked back outside to her motorcycle, "Safe? Your apartment is going to become just as unsafe as the boathouse when the GCPD is done with those men. What, you think they won't rat you out? Looked like you really pissed them off back there, I wouldn't be surprised if you were the first person they shared information about."

Octavia paused in her step, not having considered that, "Shit…" She let out a sigh as she rubbed a hand across her eyes, "I still need to pick up some things, try to hide what I can from the cops, and you look like you could use a first aid kit… Then we find a motel to hide out in."

Jonathan simply nodded in understanding as they climbed back onto the motorcycle, and Octavia was speeding through the city. The drive went quickly as Crane's arms held firmly to her waist, and Octavia couldn't help the slight leap her heart made due to his closeness. But she reprimanded herself—now _really_ wasn't the time for that train of thought.

When they finally reached her Gotham Heights apartment, Octavia ventured to guess it had been about an hour and a half since their run in with Batman and the mob. Her nerves were still on high, wondering just how much longer they had until the police would officially hunt for them.

The pair walked through the building's entrance, Jonathan keeping his head down just in case anyone were to come out into the halls and see him.

"What's to say I won't be recognized when we get to this motel you have in mind?" Jonathan questioned as they stepped into the elevator.

"No one'll give a shit at a shady hotel, especially if they don't know you're there." Octavia responded matter-of-factly, "I'll take care of it."

The two exited on the fourth floor, walking briskly down the hall to her apartment. Quickly, they were inside, and Octavia immediately went into her bedroom to pack a bag. Jonathan took that opportunity to look around her personal space once more, eying the stacks of books and papers, the corner of electronics, the posters adorning the walls. He slowly approached her desk tucked beneath a window, looking at the files scattered across it. He recognized one to be about him and briefly peeked into it, noticing that the top slip of paper was a photo of him from some newspaper article. Jonathan couldn't help but grin before closing the folder and securing it into the bag over his shoulder.

Inside the bedroom, Octavia was grabbing everything from t-shirts to band-aids to bullet cartridges, tossing things into one of her largest backpacks. For now, all she needed were a few necessities—she could return later when it was safer and she had more time. She didn't even give a second thought to leaving Jonathan alone in her living room as she tried to think of a smart motel choice for them.

Before exiting the room, Octavia laid beside her bed and shuffled under it to face the safe she had hidden beneath. She quickly entered the code and retrieved a few large stacks of bills that she put into the backpack as well. She also grabbed a couple of her fake IDs, just to play it safe.

Finally, she walked back out to find Jonathan leaning against her couch, a stack of papers in hand that he looked at in amusement.

"Making yourself at home?" Octavia questioned with a quirked eyebrow, causing Jonathan to look up in amusement.

"I imagine this is quite the read." He replied as he held up a sheet to show her a photo she had taken of his work notes when she first started the job Maroni had assigned to her. To her own surprise, Octavia felt a little sheepish, but quickly tried to shove it aside.

"What can I say, doc, you're work is riveting." She walked for the desk, stacking all of the files she could manage haphazardly and going back to the safe in her bedroom—she knew this wouldn't be enough to hide all of her work from the police, but it at least maintained the anonymity of most of her clients (and who knows what kind of people would come after her if the police knew about each of her jobs).

Finally, she returned to the desk and grabbed her laptop, stuffing it into the backpack while walking toward the door, "Let's get outta here, I'll come back later for more of my things." Just as they were about to exit, Octavia halted and opened her coat closet to pull out an extra helmet and hand it to Jonathan, "Safety first."

When the pair left, Octavia initially had no idea where they would go—it seemed as if every motel she knew about had suddenly been erased from her memory. She simply began driving south, knowing that the farther from her apartment and the Narrows, the better. It wasn't until halfway through the drive that she recalled a small, shabby motel in Chinatown that she had to go to for a job once a year or so ago. She was certain that if they were to hide there, it would take the police a while longer to find them.

So, now with a course of action, she sped off a little faster.

* * *

After checking in with a false name, Octavia led Jonathan to room 213, making sure that no one took notice of the man. She hardly gave the room notice as she dropped her backpack onto the bed, not necessarily caring about the condition of it. She started digging through her bag until she could pull out her first aid kit before turning to address her companion.

"Do you think you need this?" She questioned, holding the kit in his direction, "I imagine you at least need some band aids, you did have a roof crashed in on ya."

Jonathan's eyes turned away from the woman and to the mirror on the wall, noting the dried blood on his forehead. Up until this moment, he hadn't even considered if he sustained any injuries—there were more important things to worry about once they left the crime scene. Obviously, there was nothing too severe, else he would have noticed immediately. But now that he was actively thinking about it, he could feel the soreness in his upper back—that's where he would've received the majority of the damage from the van's roof collapsing on him, so he probably needed to check there first.

Octavia watched as the man considered his injuries for a moment before he tugged off his jacket, and underneath there were some small blood stains that had seeped through his beige shirt.

"Take off your shirt." Octavia directed while refraining from cracking one of the many jokes that had streamed through her head. Jonathan raised an eyebrow at her instruction, but did as he was told, holding her gaze as he worked at the buttons.

As she watched, Octavia gave a cheeky expression, wanting Jonathan to fully know that she was going to take this opportunity to check him out just a little. So, for a brief few moments, she let her eyes wander his torso before she then made to observe his injuries.

"How did you come outta that with only some scrapes?" She questioned as Jonathan turned to check his shoulders and back in the mirror.

"The damage wasn't as serious as it sounded." He answered simply and went to wet a hand towel in the sink, finding Octavia's eyes in the mirror's reflection, "The concern is quite touching, though."

Her eyes scrunched just slightly as she mimicked his sarcastic tone, "Makes ya feel special?"

The question caused Jonathan to grin before he started to clean his wounds. Aside from bruising and soreness, he was in practically perfect shape, lucky for him.

"Shouldn't this be the other way around; aren't you the one that supposed to come out of these scenarios with bruises?" Jonathan questioned as he reached over his shoulder with the washcloth.

Octavia gave a shrug, "You're the one that asked me to stay outta things unless you really needed me." She gave the man a wicked look while walking up behind him and stealing the towel from his hand, helping him to clean the dried blood that was out of his reach, "And you didn't last long enough for me to jump in and help."

Jonathan's eyes were challenging as he glared slightly at her reflection, "I was prepared to deal with the Chechen, _not_ the Batman."

The young woman nearly laughed as she dropped the hand towel on the counter and checked if his back needed any bandaging, "Crane, I'm just giving you shit, don't be so defensive." Octavia decided he was probably okay without anything else there and went to work examining the rest of his body for injuries, eyes skimming across his skin clinically (as opposed to when he initially removed his shirt,), "Besides, I got you outta there before the cops arrived, give me some credit."

"And I appreciate that, but now it's just the two of us," Crane replied, watching as Octavia's eyes examined him, "I need to go find replacements for those men so I can continue working."

Octavia raised an eyebrow, "Do you really need more guards? I mean, they didn't exactly do much anyway."

"One man is not nearly as intimidating as a group, especially if I still intend to take the mobs." After determining that the man's injuries were well taken care of, Octavia leaned up against the counter beside Jonathan, "Besides, if I don't find replacements, then you're the one stuck doing all their work."

The woman's eyes narrowed at the small, joking smirk on Jonathan's lips, "Contrary to what you may like to think, you're still not my boss."

He waved a hand dismissively, "I may not be your boss, but you are in a little too deep now, don't you think?"

For a brief instant, Octavia halted, knowing that what Jonathan said was true. But she shook off the seriousness, preferring their banter instead, "If I've stuck around this long, it means I enjoy ya—there's no such thing as 'in too deep' for me."

Jonathan rolled his eyes, "A friendship with the Scarecrow? Sounds like just that if you ask me." The two stared each other in the eye for a few long moments before Octavia moved to sit on the bed.

"Oh really?" She grinned largely, noting a hint of a smile on his lips and a gleam to his blue eyes.

"I'd say we're both in over our heads now…" He replied more seriously than Octavia had, and the two became silent briefly.

 **I think I'm feeling a bit of tension here, Johnny.** Jonathan's eyes narrowed slightly as the Scarecrow spoke again, **To be frank, it's gross. If you want to kiss her or something for saving you back there, just fucking do it already.**

 _What makes you think that's even remotely what I want?_

The Scarecrow, however, didn't grace Jonathan with a response, and Octavia noted his gaze seemed to intensify a little more as he watched her eyes. She couldn't help but be curious as to the reason why.

"What has you so serious?" She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Jonathan simply shook his head, causing Octavia to roll her eyes, "What's happened tonight? Or your guards? Don't make me play some fucking guessing game."

"If you _must_ know," and there Jonathan almost rolled his eyes at his own feelings, "it's you, Octavia."

Octavia froze momentarily, eyes searching his. But she couldn't handle the matter seriously, and forced out a laugh, "Me, huh? Glad to know I'm on your mind."

She turned her gaze away, attempting to avoid his eyes as she chose instead to dig through her bag, searching for anything to distract her. Something about Jonathan's stare unsettled her, though not necessarily in a bad way. No, there was something present in those eyes that Octavia did not want to address, it would just open a whole new can of worms.

Jonathan watched her every move as Octavia pulled about a million useless things from the backpack. She appeared nervous, contrary to her typical behavior. It was almost as if she somehow knew what the Scarecrow had just told him, as if she knew that because of the alter ego Jonathan was thinking about her lips against his.

Crane was not the type to often have romantic or sexual thoughts—it wasn't by choice, rather it was because those sorts of things never really presented themselves much in his life. But some point in the very recent past, once Octavia became a part of his day-to-day life, they'd casually sneak up on him; he'd wonder about the feel of her hands or her lips, though he'd quickly lose those thoughts to his work. He'd never let his mind settle on them for long because, as he told himself, they meant nothing—he was still a man, after all, and nearly every adult had their share of inappropriate thoughts now and again.

Jonathan let out a small sigh, "You don't handle emotions well, do you?"

"And what does that mean?" She questioned, avoiding his eyes.

"I say that I'm thinking about you and all I get is a poor excuse of a laugh—you don't like to talk about your feelings."

"Maybe I don't," she began, "but it doesn't always have to mean something."

"And yet, I know it does." the woman became silent again, and the moment began to stretch out, "Octavia…" he said lowly, causing the young woman to tense just slightly. Sure, this last week or so he'd been using her first name more regularly, but it was now the tone with which he said it that had her frozen. Her expression was both soft and nonplus as she turned to finally meet his eyes again. Upon meeting each other's gaze, Jonathan quirked an eyebrow, "Come here."

Putting on a confident poker face, the young woman approached, halting in front of Jonathan and letting her eyes bore into his. Neither spoke, unsure of what exactly to say or do next. By now, the Scarecrow's voice had disappeared, ending his taunts at Jonathan and leaving the man alone with just Octavia and this moment. The man crossed his arms as he thought; Octavia's mind was practically spinning with questions, waiting for him to do _something_.

But no, that's not the kind of person she was—Octavia was a woman of action, not this hesitant little thing she felt like. She can't just let Jonathan make her nervous, it would make him too smug knowing he had that power over her.

So, with a newfound confidence, she gave him a smirk, "If you have something to say, you may as well spit it out, _Jonathan_."

The emphasize on his name made the man take two large steps forward, leaving only a couple inches between the pair. At the same time, he set an almost possessive hand onto the side of Octavia's neck, and she inhaled deeply at his sudden closeness (and for an instant, Octavia was afraid that this was the Scarecrow coming out to play again). For a few long moments, the two were silent, blue meeting green eyes intensely. Challengingly, Octavia raised an eyebrow.

"Where along the line did I begin to enjoy your company?" His voice was rougher, deeper almost, "Why is it that we're friends?"

"Well, I'm quite the charmer—"

Jonathan's fingertips squeezed the nape of her neck, "You just can't be serious, can you?"

At the pressure on her neck, Octavia leaned forward more, amused by the way Crane was pushing both of their boundaries. Her tone was softer as she inched her face closer to his, feeling her heart loudly in her ears, "Maybe that's just a defense mechanism."

As her breath brushed across his cheek, Jonathan nearly sighed, and that's all it took for Octavia to close the gap between them.

Her lips were aggressive as they pressed against the man's, eagerly reaching forward to grab at his neck and hair. Though momentarily stunned, Jonathan quickly began kissing back, grip still firm against her neck as Octavia became flush against him.

Jonathan stepped back, pressed against the counter as the woman's hands wildly tangled with his hair. After another few moments of lips clumsily moving together, Octavia leaned back to meet the man's gaze, her eyes dark and lustful.

"Was that part of the plan?" She asked in a husky tone, but was cut off by Jonathan's lips crashing into hers once more, feeling a little bolder as his possessive hands gripped at her body. His fingers dug into Octavia's skin through her catsuit, causing the woman to smile against his lips. Her nails scratched against his scalp and across the back of his neck as she pressed on with eagerness.

Jonathan began to push forward, urging Octavia to take a step back before he quickly pinned her up against the wall beside them. The sudden movement caused the young woman to gasp into their kiss as she felt his grip tighten around her body. Jonathan pulled back from her lips, intense eyes meeting hers as one hand slid back up to rest on her neck. Again, a part of her briefly wondered if the Scarecrow was trying to take control and choke her, but there was no sign of it in Jonathan's eyes. His fingers squeezed just slightly as his eyes flickered down to her neck, before he leaned back in, teeth grazing across her skin to trace where his hand had touch. The activity had Octavia's eyes fluttering closed as she rolled her head back for him, sighing and smiling in the process.

 _'Now this is in too deep…'_

* * *

 **It finally happened! We've waited so long! But real talk, let me hear your thoughts-I want to share my excitement with everyone!**

 **(Also, how could Jonathan have a roof crash in on him in the movie and not even come out with like one cut? Not even one from a stray shard of glass? Witchcraft?)**


	17. Sixteen: Preludio alla Tragedia

**Here we go again with these two nerds. And in other news, Octavia has a blog! If you want to get a peek into Octavia's world, go check out her tumblr: octaviabaresi!**

* * *

The following morning, Octavia awoke to find that she was the only one in the bed. After a couple minutes of lying there and simply orienting herself, the young woman finally sat up, spotting Jonathan sat at the foot of the bed with an open folder, in front of him. She groggily got to her knees and shuffled toward the man, who didn't make an acknowledgement of her as he continued reading his notes. She peeked over his shoulder at them for a moment.

"Back to work already?" She teased, voice still heavy with sleep. Jonathan tilted his head just slightly to meet her eyes.

"Last night was just a minor setback, not the start of a vacation." He replied, looking back to his work, "You kick in your sleep, by the way."

Octavia smirked, "Hope I left a bruise."

"I'll bruise you back." Jonathan countered challengingly.

"Am I gonna have to report you for domestic violence?" Jonathan's simple smile was the only reply Octavia received, though it was enough for her.

She stayed hovered over his shoulder for a moment, watching Jonathan's face rather than reading along with him; everything from last night was playing again in her mind, particularly the end of their evening. She was well aware the kiss meant something to the both of them (since Jonathan certainly wasn't the type to casually make out with just anyone), but now it left her a little stumped. One night of kissing didn't mean dating, though oddly enough it felt to her as if they already were, in some ridiculous, twisted way of theirs. No, this couldn't be a relationship, that label couldn't describe them. But nonetheless, last night changed something.

Almost hesitantly, Octavia rested her chin upon Jonathan's shoulder, feeling the man stiffen just slightly at her touch. If she wasn't a little nervous herself, she probably would have been amused by it, but she was just as unsure as Jonathan.

"So…" she started thoughtfully, "where does this leave us?"

"This?" Jonathan questioned as he turned his head, causing their noses to nearly bump.

"You know what I mean." Octavia replied.

"Why does it matter?" The man countered, "I'm sure you've kissed your fair share of men."

"And I'm sure you _haven't_ exactly kissed your fair share of women." Octavia gave an almost harsh smirk.

" _Well_ …" Jonathan said with mock offense, "Why we need to talk about it is still a mystery to me."

"Why wouldn't we talk about it?"

At that comment, Jonathan very quickly pressed his lips to Octavia's in a brief kiss that lacked the sincerity of the ones from last night, and pulled back to raise an eyebrow questioningly, "Do we have to talk about that kiss, too?"

Octavia couldn't help but smile slightly at the man's tone and expression, rolling her eyes as she sat back on her heels.

"Fine, you've made your point." She then stood, stretching out her back and shoulders while walking toward the television set. Jonathan watched for a brief instance as her large shirt rose with her arms, a small smirk crossing his lips before he looked away. Octavia was curious to see if last night had made the news–she was sure, of course, that it would, but she wanted to see what the public was being told about it.

After flipping through the channels for a brief moment, she stopped on the news station, which was currently reporting again on the Joker's bank raid from the day prior. Octavia moved back to sit beside Jonathan, whose attention was already back to what he'd been reading before.

 _"...No more information is currently available in regard to the Joker's latest heist, however, the police are making immediate efforts to find this man and put him behind bars."_ Octavia's eyes were glued on the small television set as the reporter concluded the story, _"In related news, we go Jacob Owens with further reports on a drug deal broken up last night by the Batman."_

Octavia could feel her heartbeat speed up just slightly as she waited for the story she knew was about to come up. The GTV News directed to a new camera, a young, African-American reporter now on screen.

 _"Thank you, Alice,"_ the man started, _"Last night, field reporter, Vicki Vale, was on the scene in the East End, where none other than Jonathan Crane, known to some as the Scarecrow, was apparently involved in a mob drug deal that was interrupted by more Batman imposters. We have last night's news clip here."_

Now, the news station played a clip from last night's coverage. Vicki Vale stood alongside a young officer in the parking garage where the drug deal was supposed to take place only about twelve or so hours ago.

 _"Officer Hernandez, what can you tell us on this story so far? Was Jonathan Crane really involved in this drug trade gone south?"_ Vale sounded nearly doubtful, as if Crane's involvement in such a petty crime was laughable.

Officer Hernandez leaned into the microphone, _"We can't yet confirm or deny that allegation, but many of those arrested here tonight are claiming his involvement. After further questioning and investigation, the GCPD will make more information available."_

The news cut back to the dark-skinned morning reporter, _"The police have now confirmed the involvement of Jonathan Crane as well as the involvement of both the Chechnya and Italian mob. According to the confessions of those arrested last night, it was a confrontation between the parties regarding Crane's tampering with the mob's drug business. Things turned ugly quickly as a few faux Batmans showed up on the scene to attempt to diffuse the situation. The confrontation turned into a shootout between all parties before the Batman himself showed up and ended the fight. Though the majority of the still unidentified mobsters fled the scene, the men working under Crane as well as the faux Batmans were left to be found by the police._

 _"Crane, reportedly, had also been captured by the Batman, but suspects say he had help to escape the crime scene."_ At that, Octavia's heart beat faster, knowing that from this point on nothing would be the same, _"One of the men arrested last night, who has requested to remain anonymous, gave police full details."_

Now, a mugshot from Jonathan's previous arrest and Octavia's most recent license photo were in the top right hand corner of the screen, _"Twenty-five year old Octavia Baresi is reported to have been at the scene to assist Crane's escape, waiting until the fight was over before making her appearance and then disappearing with Crane."_

Despite her state of anxiety, Octavia practically laughed at the photo of herself–the last time she'd gone to the DMV was nearly four years ago, when her hair was still dyed a vibrant purple. From beside her, Jonathan looked up with a quirked eyebrow before grinning smally at the photo.

"Purple's a good color on you." He commented before going back to his notes.

 _"Baresi is reported to have ties to the Italian mob, which raises questions as to why she was working with Crane last night. We'll have more information as the investigation moves forward, but for now the police are asking everyone to please call if either of these two are spotted."_

As the reporter continued on to the next story, Octavia turned to face Jonathan, who still had his eyes on the papers in his hands, "And now the world knows your name."

"And all because I let myself care about ya." Octavia tried to sound joking, but it was obvious she was concerned–concerned that she'd now be investigated, concerned that she'd be hunted, concerned for what her family or Maroni might do. Overnight her life got flipped upside down, and she didn't know how to prepare herself for it, "You think they'll be investigating my apartment soon?"

"What's to say they aren't already there?" Crane was incredibly nonchalant as he set aside what he was working on and removed his glasses, "You're an identified criminal associated with not only myself but the mob as well–I imagine they're taking that quite seriously."

A subtle look of dread crossed Octavia's features, though she attempted to maintain her composure. She let out a sigh as she pressed her palm to her forehead, "All that effort these last few years was completely pointless–everything I did to be careful is useless now."

"As long as you're not arrested it isn't so bad in a city like Gotham." Crane responded casually, and the statement made Octavia glare.

"Not so bad?" the man raised an eyebrow, "Jonathan, you've been in hiding for, what, half a year or so now. Other people have to run errands for you, you're only safe to wander the Narrows, you constantly have to move from place to place to not be found out–that's no life for me."

"And yet, you made that choice." Jonathan moved closer to her, which would have almost looked intimate if it weren't for the cast of darkness in his eyes, "You chose to make decisions with your feelings for me, you chose to save me and leave everyone else behind. You're not a victim of circumstance, we both know that." By now, he was leaning over her, his head cast down to meet Octavia's eyes, "If you didn't want this life, you should have kept yourself professional instead of making this personal."

Octavia simply stared into his intense blue eyes for a few long moments, trying to collect her thoughts. Of course, she knew she made the choice that led to this, and she hated a part of herself for being that foolish. There was a reason she tried to avoid getting attached to people, but she threw all of that out the window for Jonathan.

Before she could reply, her phone started vibrating loudly from the bedside table, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin before she took the phone in her hand. Her mother. Octavia sighed as she threw the mobile onto the bed beside her. After reading the caller ID, Jonathan gave her a mocking look as if to say ' _I wonder what that's about_ ,' though he chose not to say a word. Octavia slightly narrowed her eyes at him.

"I don't entirely regret it, ya know." She finally replied, "Sure, okay, I know it was probably a stupid idea–not just getting you outta there last night, but in deciding to continue working with you in the first place–but… I guess a part of me couldn't help myself."

"You're run by your emotions far more than you like to let on, Octavia." And the near softness in his tone made the young woman smile again, against her better judgment, "See, right–"

Her phone began to ring again–this time, though, it was Brea's name on the screen. Octavia sighed as she put her phone on silent, noting that she also had a new voicemail from her mother.

"You're going to be _very_ popular today." Crane smirked, "And you're just going to ignore everyone?"

"You and I both know the police can trace calls, I'm not risking that."

"So you can control yourself enough not to answers calls from your own mother, but not enough to stop yourself from saving me?"

Octavia glared as she stood and walked away from the man, "I don't want to deal with your shit right now, Crane."

 **Oh, back on last name basis again, you really are getting under her skin.**

"I'm just trying to make a point." He responded to the woman casually.

"Maybe I should've just left you there to get arrested."

"And then you'd have to go kiss somebody else to move on from your feelings for me." He gave her a confident, nearly cocky grin as he stood.

Octavia narrowed her eyes as the corner of her lip quirked up, "And what would you do in prison to get over your feelings for me? Find your own guy to go fuck so you could move on?"

Jonathan nearly grinned, "And what makes you think I'd have let myself get that caught up in any feelings for you?"

"I guess wishful thinking." Octavia gave the man an almost patronizing look, "If I really don't mean that much to you, as a friend or otherwise, then I may as well leave and figure out what I'm going to do now."

With that, Octavia began collecting her belongings and throwing them into her bag. Jonathan watched casually, nearly doubting that she would leave.

 **You're not actually going to let her leave, are you?**

 _What if I am? Why would that matter to you?_

The Scarecrow nearly scoffed, **You and I both know you like having her around, hell, even I think I'm growing fucking soft. And she can still be useful.**

 _So, you just want to use her?_

The Scarecrow, however, didn't respond, and Octavia by now was walking for the door, only a little bothered that Jonathan had done nothing but stare wordlessly as she packed. Walking out of the room, she glowered at the old, filthy concrete in the motel's exterior halls. Her footsteps were characteristically light as she moved, already planning what she'd do next.

"Octavia." Jonathan said in an incredibly relaxed tone. He stood, leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed and eyes following her. The young woman turned to face him, brow raised, "Come back into the room."

She gave him a small, prideful smirk, "Why?"

Jonathan's eyes searched hers, wondering if she was really going to make him explain it to her. Seeing the confirmation in her gaze, he sighed, "Because I want you to stay…" He maintained his calm, in-control tone, "... And I need your help; everything goes more smoothly with you around."

Octavia's smirk grew a little as she walked back toward him, halting just a couple inches from him and gazing up into his eyes, " _The_ Jonathan Crane needs little ol' me?" After staring at each other for a few long moments, Octavia brushed past him back into the motel room, just catching the glint of amusement in Jonathan's gaze.

* * *

Anita Baresi opened her front door that evening to find Sal Maroni there flanked by a guard on either side. Immediately, Anita knew what their presence meant, and her eyes filled with concern. The mobster's signature look of condescension was on his face as he spoke.

"Anita, my friend," Maroni took a step forward to set a hand on the woman's shoulder, "We needa have a talk."

With a strong nod, Anita led the trio into the dining room, where Maroni took the head of the table. The bodyguards remained standing behind him.

"Where's Tino?" Maroni's tone was almost mocking, "I think he should sit in on this."

"He's not been doin' so well since finding out." Anita replied, but Maroni's insistent look made her nod in agreement, "I'll go grab him."

The couple returned a minute or so later, and though Santino's struggle was obvious in his eyes, he put on a strong face for the mob boss. He pulled out the chair for Anita to sit opposite Maroni's head of the table, and Santino remained standing with a comforting hand atop his wife's shoulder.

"We all know why I'm here…" Maroni started professionally, "That kid of yours has gotten herself into quite some trouble. Now, I gotta wonder if either of you know anything about this."

"We were just as in the dark as you," Anita reassured, maintaining a calm demeanor, "She had us convince she was done with the Scarecrow a month ago. If we'd known what was going on, we would've told you, I promise that."

"The problem is," Maroni started up again without missing a beat, "that I've trusted your family for years–you for decades, Tino–and then your kid breaks the most important rule of the mob." Maroni's business face was slowly becoming one of frustration, "Now, I've got enough crap on my plate between Dent and the Joker troubles–that kid is one more problem I have to take care of.

"Now, I just want to know where she is."

"We have no idea, she hasn't spoken to us in days." Santino finally spoke, "Knowing Vee, she could be just about anywhere."

Maroni's eyes narrowed in scrutiny, trying to determine whether what the man said was the truth. His eyes turned toward Anita as well for a few long moments.

"You've been my friend for so long, Tino," Maroni started as he stood, "This is me continuing to trust you–I just hope you don't break my trust."

"Sal, I would never." The other man confirmed.

"I sure hope not. If you hear anything from that girl, I wanna be the first to know, got it?"

"You have my word." Santino reassured. Maroni gave each Baresi one final long look before beginning for the door.

"We'll have to do lunch soon–it's been too long." He gave a final grin before making his leave.

* * *

"So, what's your plan?" Octavia questioned, sitting cross-legged atop the bed as Jonathan sat at the small dining table.

"First, we'll move to a new location–I have a small place out in the Narrows that serves as my emergency hideout for situations such as this." The man replied, fingers tapping thoughtfully on the table.

"You mean you planned to get taken down by Batman and go into hiding with a hot chick?" Octavia gasped in mock surprise, and a grin spread across both her and Jonathan's lips.

"Exactly to a tee." He replied.

"Why didn't you just tell me to go there from the start?"

"I still hadn't determined whether or not I wanted to entrust the location to you." His response received a small, joshing glare.

"Wow, I had to kiss you to earn your trust? You're much more shallow than I thought."

Jonathan nearly rolled his eyes before continuing his explanation, "I don't have much there, we may have to try returning to the boathouse to collect whatever may be left–I'm sure by now the police have been through and taken quite a bit."

"So, wait out another couple of days…" Octavia said more as confirmation for herself, "If we're going there, we're going back to my apartment, too."

"Fair enough. Once we're in the new place we can focus back on our plan."

"It's our plan now?" Octavia grinned, and amusement was in Jonathan's eyes.

"You're a part of this now–I guess that could mean it's yours to some degree."

"You sure do know how to make a girl blush, what with all this flattery."

"I know more than one way to do that…" Jonathan said cockily, taking Octavia by slight surprise; she was still getting used to this version of him that made bold comments mimicking her own. It made her smile, knowing that this Jonathan was one nobody else got to see. And it certainly eased her some, knowing that she could get away with saying such things and amuse him rather than disturb him.

"Gosh, ya kiss a girl once and suddenly you're Don Juan?" The man gave Octavia an amused eye, "So, trapped up in this room with a Don Juan for at least another two days–imagine the kind of trouble we'll get ourselves in."

"And I thought I told you this wasn't a vacation." He continued her almost suggestive tone.

"Oh, no, this will all _purely_ be work related," Jonathan cocked an eyebrow as Octavia's grin grew a little devious, "Workplace trust exercises." And with that she sent him a wink as she started to rise to her feet.

* * *

 **You guys know the drill, lemme know how you felt about this chapter! As always, I love hearing from everyone, and I hope to update very soon!**


	18. Seventeen: Oltre la Redenzione

**Well I've just been a really bad author, ditching this story for a couple of months! I've been working on a couple of other projects (one of which is a Gotham story recently published, if anyone is interested) and have been struggling with serious writer's block for the next chapter! Hopefully in posting this chapter I'll find the kind of inspiration I need!**

* * *

Three days so far they'd been hiding out in that shabby Chinatown motel, and Octavia was certainly getting antsy; being holed up like this was something difficult she quickly realized, and she was admittedly struggling. She'd hardly been out of this room, and when she did leave, she had to be incredibly cautious. Even if the GCPD was caught up with the Joker nonsense, that didn't mean people weren't on the lookout for her and Crane.

The thought led Octavia to realize that perhaps this was how Jonathan felt sometimesㄧafter all, he'd been living in hiding for so long now. It made her sit up and turn her attention to the man sat at the dining table, who was currently watching one of the national news channels.

"Do you not feel just a little out of touch from the world?" She questioned, and when Jonathan gave her a confused look she continued, "I mean, you didn't have a TV or computer at that boathouse, did you not feel cut off from everything else?"

"I always had ways of getting the important informationㄧI wasn't so concerned with it feeling as if I was cut off." Jonathan stood from his seat, "And that was only the boathouse. I _do_ have access to the outside world and technology. When we get to the new apartment, you'll see."

"But it seems like you always have the news on now that we're hereㄧare you just making up for your time without easy access to news reports? And why not ever get a laptop? There's a million ways to protect from any kind of hack or trace."

Jonathan shrugged, "You're curious today." He came to sit on his side of the bed, "Going a little crazy being confined to a room like this?"

Octavia sighed deeply, "You have _no_ idea." She gave a slight pout, causing Jonathan to smirk at the irony.

"Don't be a brat, it doesn't suit you." He teased, causing Octavia to return his grin.

"I'm rather fond of it." Jonathan's eyes became deadpan, amusing the woman.

After a moment of staring at each other, Octavia stood, grabbing hold of her burner phone, pocket knife, and cigarettes from the bedside table. Jonathan gave her a curious look as she made for the door.

"Don't get yourself arrested out there." He joked as she stepped outside.

"If I am, I'll scream loud enough for you to hear me." Octavia gave a smile before closing the door. She walked down the open hall, turning the corner near the staircase and stopping just before it, where one of the lights happened to be burnt out. This late in the evening, she was sure to be fine to step out for a cigarette without trouble.

After lighting one up, she pulled out the prepaid phone, deciding to call Erozㄧthe news station was only so reliable for information, after all, and Eroz' crew had eyes everywhere, always getting the latest word on the street.

 _"Hello?"_ The man's voice was curious, as he didn't recognize the number used.

"It's Octavia." she said simply, taking a large drag from her cigarette, "I need some intel."

 _"Shit, girl, ya really are in the middle of a big mess."_ Eroz replied, his tone nearly entertained, _"I mean, you working with the Scarecrow? That shit's crazy."_

"And it's a fucking problem, now I can't even go outside most of the time." Her tone was annoyed, "But Eroz, I need to hear what's been happenin' the last few daysㄧnot the crap that's on the news, I need to know what's been circling around the mobs."

Eroz laughed, _"Ya called at just the right time, you're never gonna believe what just happened."_ Octavia's curiosity was immediately peaked, _"Gambol was found dead just a couple hours ago."_

The young woman paused in surprise, thoughts briefly drifting to Jonathan, though she knew there was no way he had anything to do with it.

"Gambol? Who would go after a guy like him?"

 _"Word is it's that Joker guyㄧGambol had a price put on him a couple days ago. I don't know much about it, but that's a serious fucking move. The mobs' been going crazy over this guy since that last bank robbery. Now's probably a good time for ya to get outta town while they're still distracted."_

"I can't," she stomped out the cigarette, "Jonathan has plans, and I gotta stick around for 'em."

 _"Jonathan?"_ Eroz sounded amused, _"You're on first name basis with hardly anyoneㄧit took you, what, a year before ya felt like ya could trust me enough. You two must be close."_

Octavia rolled her eyes, "Don't think about it too much."

There was a brief pause between them, _"Everyone says you're fuckin' him, that that's why you lied to the mob and all."_

"They're just tryin' to discredit me," The young woman couldn't help but shake her head at the expected speculation, "They can't imagine another reason for a chick to do somethin' so risky."

 _"So, you're not, then?"_ Eroz pushed.

"Well… not yet…" Octavia couldn't help the subtle grin that crossed her lips.

 _"Charming,"_ Eroz laughed lightly, _"Look unless there's anything else, I gotta get goin', I have my own business to deal with."_

"I owe you one."

 _"I think by now you owe me more than one."_ The two shared a laugh before finally they both hung up.

When Octavia returned to the room to inform Jonathan about Gambol, the criminal was surprisedㄧsomeone else was moving in on the mob, getting to them before he had the chance. Jonathan didn't like it one bit.

"Rumor is its the Joker." Octavia watched her partner's face carefully to read his reaction, "Whoever the hell this guy is, he's goin' fucking big."

"So it would seem…" Jonathan's brow furrowed, obviously a little upset by this new issue.

"Maybe we could use this," Octavia picked up with an idea, "You let this guy distract everyone while you finish what you intend to."

"Octavia, a part of doing this is so the mob knows it was all meㄧnow it'll look as if I'm just riding on this Joker's coattails." His clenched jaw caused Octavia to shake her head.

"Yeah, but you're also opportunisticㄧif you sneak in while they're distracted, and it'll still make just as much of an impact. You'll still make 'em feel inferior, isn't that part of the goal?"

 **She's not wrong, Johnny…**

He stared at Octavia for a few moments longer before rising to his feet, "Then it's better we not idly sit on our hands."

The young woman gave Jonathan a slight smirk, "Let's get back to it, then."

* * *

As the lights got switched on, Octavia groaned, pulling the sheets over her head in an attempted to block the annoyance out. She wasn't sure what time it actually was, but it was certainly too early for her to want to roll out of bed.

"Octavia, it's time to go." She heard Jonathan as he walked through the room. He was moving things around the room as Octavia stayed under the covers, practically falling asleep again.

Then the sheets were pulled back from her face, and again she groaned. When she opened her eyes, Jonathan was there just a few inches from her face, eyes amused as he looked down at her.

"Come on, I took a car, we're going to my new place tonight."

"What do you mean you took a car?" Octavia questioned Jonathan, who had just returned from who knows whereㄧshe heard him get up in the middle of the night, but hadn't assumed he went out to steal a car.

"I mean exactly that." Jonathan answered casually, "If we go out on that motorcycle, we'll get caught."

"I know that," the woman rolled her eyes as she finally sat up, letting out a yawn, "I just didn't think a car is what you disappeared in the night for. What are you gonna do when someone reports their car stolen?"

"I assure you it won't be missed." The answer made Octavia raise an eyebrow, but she chose not to push the subject, "We're moving tonight."

With that, Octavia slowly started to get ready, dressing and collecting her things and soon they were out the door.

Their first stop was the boathouse, and, as they suspected, it was rather bare. Bits and pieces of Jonathan's work could still be found, but not much that was of use, to his annoyance. They both knew there wouldn't be much left, but they grabbed what they could and were soon back on the road.

As they began the drive to her apartment, Octavia realized that, for the last four days in that motel, Octavia had her personal phone offㄧthere was hardly use for it now that she was a wanted criminal, but for whatever reason she had yet to get rid of it. As Jonathan made the drive to Gotham Heights, she decided it was time to turn it back on and see how many messages and calls she actually missed before she got rid of it.

She watched the screen as notifications began to show upㄧmore calls from Brea and her parents, texts from a handful of informants, including Eroz. As she deleted each of their messages, the most recent few from her mother caused her to pause.

 _"Maroni came to the house tonight asking about you. Stay safe out there. Will keep in touch."_

 _"Maroni has eyes on your apartment, be careful if you go back."_

She couldn't help the smile that grew on her lipsㄧshe was sure her mother was upset with her, but that didn't stop the older woman from still having her daughter's safety in mind. Octavia wanted to call her mother back, but decided it might not be the timeㄧit was better not to try anything risky for the time being, right? And it being four in the morning didn't help either. But she knew she needed a way to contact Anita, at least to acknowledge that her messages were received and so that the older woman knew her daughter was okay.

"Jonathan, pullover." Octavia spoke up as they were nearly to her apartmentㄧher mother's most recent text obviously had her worried. There was a good chance there were still eyes on her apartment, and she had to decide whether or not the risk was worth it. Jonathan gave her a questioning look once they were parked, "Maroni has eyes on the apartment."

"I don't doubt itㄧI take it we aren't going there after all?"

"Haven't decided yet." She replied thoughtfully. Anyone walking in at 4AM would look suspicious; and if there were eyes on the apartment, then climbing any fire escapes would be noticed as well. And she didn't necessarily need anything else immediately, "... Let's just goㄧI'll come back when the situation isn't so fresh."

So, they continued back on the road, heading for the northernmost end of the Narrows.

By 4:30AM, they had finally reached one of the well-worn apartment buildings adorning the Narrows, though this one was certainly not as hard on the eyes as others. It even looked to have other occupants, Octavia noted as they walked up. Jonathan began to lead her up to the sixth floor, halting at a door just around the corner from the stairwell.

As the pair entered the new rundown apartment, Octavia let her eyes wanderㄧit wasn't quite as nice as the motel they'd been in the last four evenings, though it was certainly better than many other abandoned buildings in the Narrows. Jonathan switched on the lights, giving the young woman a better glimpse at the space.

"Ooh, a building that already has electricity, you've really stepped it up." The young woman joked, a cheeky grin on her face as she turned to her companion. Jonathan's expression, in turn, was flat, "Really, Jonathan, I'm _so_ flattered you let me in on your super secret hideout."

"I didn't have much choice in the matter." Jonathan responded simply with a challenging smirk as he walked past her. Octavia's eyes followed him, watching as he began to unpack belongings before she closed the door.

The young woman continued to take in the appearance of the small apartment as she walked back toward the bedroom, wondering briefly how and why Jonathan had this place. There was probably some explanation of secret accounts or perhaps blackmail that got him the apartment, but the fact that he'd had it just waiting for an emergency took her by surprise. She knew the man was smart, but he certainly thought further ahead than her in this regard.

Octavia still felt slightly sluggish, knowing that she needed to get some more sleep; Jonathan was lucky she was in such a decent mood, as usually she would've been rather rude about being woken up at an odd hour.

She dropped her belongings at the foot of the bed, shrugging off her jacket and sliding out of her jeans once more to be down to just the large shirt she'd had on for bed earlier. Octavia had begun to pull back the sheets, fully prepared for sleep, but stopped, peering back over her shoulder out the doorway. Jonathan was still on his feet, too focused on organizing his belongings to know what the young woman was up to. She stopped what she was doing, walking out into the living room and halting to lean against the dining table. Her eyes followed Jonathan for a few long moments as she crossed her arms.

"Jonathan, you need to sleep." She spoke, causing the man to halt and turn his gaze on her. His eyes gave her a quick up-down before meeting her stare.

"I'm fine." He went back to sifting through files.

"You've been up all night." She pushed off the table to walk up behind him, "Come on, don't you wanna be in bed with me?" Octavia's suggestive tone caused him to grin just slightly, pausing again to peer at her. Upon meeting his eyes again, she smiled, "You do, so come on."

"Octaviaㄧ" Jonathan started, but the young woman moved to wrap her arms up around his neck, shaking her head.

"No, you're coming with me." She pressed close to him, her mouth grazing over his chest just slightly. She looked back up to his eyes while taking firm steps backwards, tugging him along with her. Jonathan couldn't help but roll his eyes a little at her persistence.

"Gotham isn't going to wait for us to sleep, not with how fast the Joker is moving."

Octavia briefly waved her hand dismissively, "Forget about the Joker."

Quickly, she moved across the room to switch off the lights, and as Jonathan's eyes adjusted to the dark, her arms were snaking back around him from behind.

"Are you sure you plan to sleep?" His tone was suggestive as he quirked an eyebrow, and in response Octavia briefly bit his shoulder.

"As soon as my head hits those pillows, I'll be out like a light." She spoke into his shirt, "But until then…"

Once more, Octavia began guiding him toward the bedroom.

* * *

For a few minutes now, Octavia watched as Jonathan sat over his work, obviously a little frustrated by whatever he was trying to figure out. All morning, he'd been rather immersed in trying to piece his project back togetherㄧevidently, it was a little difficult without his some former resources that were now in police custody. The irritation wasn't quite getting to Jonathan, though Octavia nonetheless felt as if maybe he needed to step back from his work for a short while to regain his focus.

"Do you think maybe you should take a break from that?" She spoke up, causing Jonathan to pause and give a look over his shoulder.

"Weren't you the one to suggest I keep working while that Joker has everyone distracted?" He questioned, though his tone wasn't interrogative.

Octavia shrugged, "Well, yeah, but maybe you still need some time to relax, maybe now's not the right time for you to see your plan through."

"Then when is the right time?" His tone hinted something akin to condescension, causing the young woman to almost roll her eyes.

"I say just waitㄧwith the way the Joker's fucking with this city, you might need to hold off for a bit. If you try anything now while he's at it, I don't imagine things'll go as you plan."

For a few long moments, Jonathan silently considered her words, setting aside the paperwork he had out as they held eye contact.

"Well… you're smarter than you look." He smirked, and Octavia almost wished she had something to throw to wipe the look off his face.

"You're a charmer." She countered, a playful glare in her eyes as Jonathan stood, his smirk still in place. The woman shook her head in amusement before turning her gaze out the window, staring at the blue sky for a few long moments. Soon, Jonathan dropped down onto the couch next to her, and her eyes returned to him.

Then, an almost random thought crossed Octavia's mindㄧthe messages from her mother these last few days. After all, she did want to give her mother some confirmation that she was alright, and thank her for helping even though she was sure Maroni would be pissed if he found out.

"You still have that burner phone I gave you?" She questioned, to which Jonathan gave a curious. But, nonetheless, he fished the item out from an inner pocket on his jacket and handed it over. Octavia thought for a brief moment while staring at the phone before dialing the familiar number.

 _"Hello?"_ Her mother answered after only a few rings.

"Hi, am I speaking to Mrs. Anita Baresi?" Octavia put on a chipper, almost saleswoman voice. Her mother still recognized her, however.

 _"Yes…"_ She sounded nearly worried.

"Hello, Mrs. Baresi, my name is Catherine, I'm a representative for the Endangered Reptile Association in regards to your recent donation."

 _"Oh, yes, of course."_ Anita caught onto the act quickly, and put on a similar, friendly voice, _"I wasn't sure if those last few donations were received, I never got a confirmation."_

"Our apologies, we were having some technical malfunctions." Jonathan gave an amused look toward his companion, "We just wanted to do a follow-up to confirm them and thank you for your contribution."

 _"Oh, yes, I try to help in any way I can."_

"We do hope that you continue to give contribution to our organization, all help is _very_ appreciated. Now, you have a good day, Mrs. Baresi, and thank you for your time." Once she hung up, her gaze turned back to the grin on Jonathan's face.

"And what was that about?" He questioned.

"My mom's been sending messages about Maroni, trying to help me." Octavia answered fondly.

"So that's where you get the rebellious streak." Jonathan's words caused his partner to grin as she bumped his shoulder before swiftly throwing her leg over to straddle him.

* * *

 **This chapter was a bit of a filler, I apologize for that, but I feel like it was necessary for the pacing. On that note, I'd like to hear opinions on what you all think Jonathan would do during all this Joker businessㄧI've been going back and forth on ideas, which may explain my recent writer's block. Leave a review, let me know, and I'll try to update soon!**


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